I don't suppose you happen to be another mage? (AlistairxAmell)
by Maleficarum
Summary: Fiona Amell has spent her whole life living on the cliff over Lake Calenhad with the Circle of Magi. She has had her taste of friends and foes, but nothing will prepare her for when she is faced with being one of two Grey Wardens left to defend Ferelden against the Blight. She knows what she must do, but many obstacles block her path. Especially the damn blushing. (hiatus bro)
1. Origin

_On a cliff overlooking the dark waters of Lake Calenhad stands the tower fortress that is home to the Circle of Magi. This tower is the only place in Fereleden were mages may study their art among others of their kind. Within the high stone walls, the Circle practices it's magic and trains apprentices the proper use of their powers. But the Circle tower is as much a prison as a refuge._

_The ever vigilant templars of the Chantry watch over all mages; constantly alert for any signs of corruption. This gilded cage is the only world she knows. Found to be sensitive to magic at a young age, Fiona Amell was torn from her family and grafted here as an apprentice. Now that apprenticeship is nearly over. All that remains is the final test: The Harrowing._

"Awake, Mage." A burly voice disrupted me from my sleep. I stirred a bit. The voice was bouncing over every object in the Fade. The trees bent and swayed to every vibrato of the voice. It spoke again, this time I felt a devastating blow to my shoulder. The fade melted away and was replaced with the cold, dark atmosphere of the Apprentice Quarters. The wood frame of the bed above me seemed to flare with fuzzy images. I shook my head once and looked over to my side.

Two templars stood over me. They seemed to be very impatient, or as far as I could tell. Bless the Maker these templars are wearing their clunky helmets. Judging by their stance, I'd hate to see the annoyance and rage plastered to their faces. It was no matter, though. templars were a nuisance to most magi, and magi a nuisance to most templars. I wasn't a bad person, so I usually listened to the templars.

Usually.

"What is it now? Did you not notice me peacefully sleeping there? Or did the helmets put you off?" I smirked indefinitely, but then was replaced with a genuine grimace when the templar on the left spoke.

"You are ready for the Harrowing. Come with us now." My breath hitched. I did not know whether I would jump up and down in happiness or crawl back under the covers in dread. The Harrowing was something that every mage looked forward to, and also did not look forward to. I myself was not sure of the which that I was infatuated with in regards to the Harrowing. I was never happy, nor worried when I had not gotten the wake up call in the middle of the night for it. Now, though, I believe that the feeling was...fear. Yes, I decided on fear. It was the most suitable. But, the fear was more or less laced with righteousness. I was confident in myself almost all of the time. I never underestimated my abilities. If I were to be lucky, this Harrowing would be a breeze. Or, I would be blinded by my hubris and end up becoming an abomination and then slain by the templars.

I exited the bed slowly and cautiously. I did not speak, nor make any notion of what I was feeling. I started to head the other way, but one of the templars spoke up.

"And where do you think you are going, then?" He asked me, crossing his arms. I narrowed my eyes and gestured towards my body.

"I have to get changed, you bleeding sod! Wow. Something tells me that either your helmet is on backwards or you're even more thick than I thought." I sarcastically bantered at the man before turning on my heel and heading toward the chest at the end of the bed before he could say another word. I quickly lifted the lock and pawed through the clothes. I did not have much, seeing as I was no noble, and a mage at that. Still, I had agreed to share the chest with another mage by the name of Ailis. We were close, almost friends. She had not been through her Harrowing yet, and people had said that she was to become a Tranquil. I prayed to the Maker for that girl, but I could not change what was coming to her.

I quickly changed, just so the stupid templars would not bark at me. I hurriedly brushed through my short, blonde hair. I brushed my hair around with my fingers, and then hurried back to the templars. They were talking to each other, and barely noticed my presense until I made a noise. The one who had talked to me the most crossed his arms again, and I rolled my eyes. "Take me away then. We are not going anywhere by standing here."

I followed their lead as they guided me through the quiet halls and up all the floors to the Harrowing chamber. My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms were sweaty. I could not believe that it was my time. I was ready. Irving must have full faith in me, or I would not be here. I liked Irving and he liked me. I was a good pupil, and that was fully noted. Perhaps that is why I got the nicest treatment him. The other senior enchanters didn't like me much. It was a mutual relationship, so it never really bothered me much. I did not care about them. It was not they who would judge my abilities and put them to the test.

Before I knew it, we were ascending the stairs and through the door that led to the Harrowing chamber. My clammy hands were pressed tightly against the sides of my robes. I clenched and unlcenched the fabric, hoping to dry my hands. My face was feeling red, and I knew that it was must likely blushing. That was one thing I really did not like about myself: my blushing. The amount of blood must be a startling amount within my face, judging by all of the times that I blush in a day. I blush like a normal person when embarrased or flattered. But, I also blush when I'm nervous, flustered, or if I'm lying. I suppose that is why I never get away with any fibs. It is very easy to tell when I'm not telling the truth. I guess that makes me bad coercionist.

The templar - it seemed the second one had faded from my view - directed me toward Irving, Knight-Commander Greagoir and some other Templars. One of them I recognized as Cullen. He was staring at me, his face looking as emotionless as a Tranquil, but yet I could see the fear and worry in his eyes. When we stopped, the templar seemed to guard my back in case I wanted to flee. I did not want to flee, so I gave him glares whenever I could. Greagoir approached me, speaking as he walked.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," He projected his voice, making it sound big and important. I did not doubt it, no not at all. Still, I do doubt whether or not the amoutn of people in the room requires him to speak so loudly. "Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium-ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin."

He turned, now walking toward Irving. "Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse. For demons of the dream realm - the Fade - are drawn to you," Greagoir walks back to me and turns, facing me. I stare back at him, showing the same amount of emotion that I granted to the templars. Nothing. "and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

From behind me, Irving steps forward and starts toward me. "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon; armed with only your will." Irving is behind me. I turn to face him. He is looking out of the high windows. I turn my head slightly to follow his gaze. The sun shines briefly from behind the stained glass. The lights change colors and dance on the floors of the Harrowing chamber. Such a pretty sight for a...harrowing experience to come. It seems he is waiting for me to speak.

Curiosity spikes through me. Perhaps I don't have to do this? What if the Harrowing is simply one way of passing from an apprentice to a full mage. "Is there any other option?" I ask, looking from Irving to Greagoir.

Greagior is the one to answer. "There is tranquility."

"Is losing all your magic an option?" I turn to Irving, as he speaks to me. I know it is not an option, and continue not to make any emotion. It is a serious manner, and though I usually find light hearted jokes nice in time of need such as this, I decide against saying anything. It would be inappropriate. "No, I have faith that you will succeed." Irving smiles at me and for once, I smile back. In my whole day, I have only smiled once, and that is now.

"Know this Apprentice," I turn my head back to Greagoir. "If you fail, we templars will perform or duty. You will die." I swallow gently, trying not to worry myself too much. I won't fail. I am a strong mage.

I turn to the pedastal off my right. It is filled with a strange, blue, glowing liquid. "This is lyrium. The very essence of magic, and your gateway to the Fade."

Irving breaks in, stepping close to me and gesturing to the pedastal. I watch him, slowly. He whispers, "The Harrowing is a secret out of neccesity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you and remember, the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

Greagoir's voice cuts into Irvings. "The apprentice must go through the test alone, First Enchanter." I narrow my eyes at him. I appreciate Irving's concern, but I don't see why Greagoir has to be such a killjoy. But, it seems that through the rough coating of his words, he means nothing wrong. "You **are** ready." He says to me, extending his hand to the pedestal. I nod. I walk to the pedastal, approaching it slowly but surely. My heart is thudding in my chest and my temples are beaded with sweat. I'm nervous, and my face is red hot. I reach out a hand and dunk it into the pool of lyrium. My hand instantly swells with the blue, glowing light. My eyes widen and I lift my hand, staring at it as I turn it around and gaze at it. Then, a bright light erupts from the pool and everything goes white.


	2. Post-Harrowing

I don't know how, but I managed to wake up back in the Apprentice Quarters. The cold is startling, considering the warmth from the lyrium and how the Fade felt. What had happened was truly...harrowing. I am only glad I managed to get out alive. Or, I am alive, aren't I? Surely I am! I didn't let Mouse in...he was a demon. I knew it from the beginning, but I guess I refused to believe it. No one suspects the poor, cute mouse who is really an 'apprentice'. I doubted it from the beginning, only because he says he was an apprentice, but he wears a senior enchanter's robe. It takes a very observant mage to take note of that.

The Fade fades away and is replaced with the familiar darkness. A voice that I know drifts in.

"Are you alright? Say something, please..." Jowan begs of me. I open my eyes dimly, blinking once or twice and letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Jowan stands beside the bed, looking down at me. He is worried.

"Jowan?" I murmur, sitting up slowly. My head is pounding. It must be a side effect of the lyrium. I place the palm of my hand against my forehead and breath in and out slowly. I exhale and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"I'm glad you're alright," He says as I stand up to face him. My legs feel a bit like jelly, and I fumble a bit. He grabs my forearm and helps steady me. I thank him without words. "They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize you'd been gone all night."

"It is surely nice to know that I can trust the mighty templars to carry my Fade driven body back into my bed. I would have hated to be woken back in the Harrowing chamber." I give a half smile.

"I've heard about apprentices that never come back from Harrowings. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?" He pesters me with these questions, but Jowan knows that I cannot speak of it to him. Like any other ritual or tradition, you must not speak of it with others who have not taken it. Like a test. You must not tell another person of the test, or they may study for the knowledge given to them beforehand and make the results faulty. I roll my eyes at him and lay a hand on my hip.

"It was...harrowing. The name doesn't fail. There, that's all I can tell you." I say, dropping my hand and letting my mind drift back to the events. The sight of the spirits and the demons were very startling. I was surprised that I didn't shout and scream at the sight of them in the first place. The sloth demon was a demon that I found less afraid of and more annoyed of. Though the sight of him was disturbing, I was more or less distracted by the slow and sleepy sounding voice. Made me want to impale him with spikes. Something to wake up the tired fool.

"Is that why they don't tell us what it's about? I know I'm not supposed to know... but we're friends. Just a little hint, and I'll stop asking, I promise?" Jowan begs of me. I began to grow tired of his pestering. So, I sigh and decide to give him the littlest of the hints, just as he requires.

"I had to enter the Fade." I tell him. Though the doubts are swarming my mind, I brush them away. Jowan is my friend, and while it is not required to tell others of the Harrowing, I might as well tell him. He'd be better knowing it. It would prepare him further.

"Really? That's it?" He asks. I can't take it anymore. The words flow out of my mouth.

"No. I had to defend myself from demons."

"That makes sense. They want to see if you can resist a demon and stop yourself from becoming an abomination.

And now you get to move to the nice mages' quarters upstairs. I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing." Jowan pouts, turning to his side and crossing his arms. I lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he looks at me, still awfully upset. I pat him once on the shoulder.

"Don't worry so much about. They'll probably call you any day now." I try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work.

"Easy for you to say," he scoffs. "I've been here longer than you have. Sometimes I think they just don't want to test me." Jowan turns back to me. I drop my hand and hit him lightly on the arm. He flinches, none the less.

"You're just paranoid." I joke with him.

"No, I'm afraid of what will happen to me. You do the Harrowing, the Rite of Tranquility...or you die. That's what happens." The pessimistic friend of mine continues, a look of sorrow crossing his face. I flash him a look of annoyance. I've had enough of his paranoia.

"Jowan, they're not going to kill you!"

"They might not. But the Rite of Tranquility is just as bad...maybe worse. You've seen the Tranquil around the tower. Like Owain, who runs the stockroom. He's so cold. No, not even cold. There's just...nothing in him. It's like he's dead, but still walking. His voice, his eyes are lifeless..."

"Oh, don't make me think of him. He gives me the creeps. Still, Jowan, you aren't going to die or be made tranquil. I don't even know why you'd think of that." I cross my arms.

"Apprentices can ask to be made tranquil if they fear the Harrowing. But the Circle also forces Tranquility on those they feel are weak. Sometimes they force it on apprentices they think might be too...dangerous as mages."

"Jowan, you aren't dangerous are you-"

"I shouldn't waste your time with this," He waves an arm at me. "I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up." Jowan walks away. I nod to him and turn in the opposite direction. As I walk, I can hear the sounds of the other mages whispering about me. They say things like how I did my Harrowing in 'record time' and other fancy things like that. It makes me feel...proud. Proud to know that I passed my Harrowing and didn't have to die. But, it also makes me think back to what Jowan said. He has been here longer than I...so who is to say that he won't be made tranquil? The very thought of my friend, so live with emotion, being a walking and talking husk of a person brings shivers down my back. Jowan doesn't deserve that.

I continue down the rounding halls and up the stairs. As I pass the stockroom, I notice Owain. He just stands there...emotionless. Since Jowan brought him up, I find new things about Owain. How he seems to just blink and breathe, not even registering anything. With a sigh, I pass by Owain without saying a word. I don't like speaking to him, or any other Tranquil. The way their voices are so monotone and without life makes my skin crawl. The slow pace of the words also brings my patience to a thin line. I do not like to wait, and rarely ever let people talk slowly to me. If there are very old elders who speak slower than slow can be, I do build a tolerance for them. Only because they are my elders, though, and I owe them as must respect.

The hallways wind and turn and continue. I enter a room filled with beds and chests and vanities. In the very farthest corner of the room, behind a wall, there is a chest. I know that no one owns these chests, seeing as it is all the way back here and not by a bed. So, I dig through it. Inside I find a Magic staff. I take it and slip it behind my back. No one ever really cares if a mage appears with a new item that they had not had in the past. The Circle tower is full of magical items and random things of wonder that no one ever bothers to collect, unless you decide to go looking for things. I remember it being a bit of a game between me and the other apprentices my age.

We would run around the halls, when the mages weren't looking, and play hide and seek and find the treasure. It was fun...so much fun. Truthfully, doing things like that was what kept me sane through all these boring years within the tower. Oh how the days would go by and I'd wish to leave. All mages and apprentices are allowed to walk the grounds, but the sight beyond the mountains and trees is so grand. I'd sit on the grass and stare up into the stars, wondering if I'd ever be free of this place. Mages who were not under the Circle's supervision were Apostates, and hunted by the templars. As much as I'd like freedom, I'd hate to have to keep moving if I heard that templars were in the area. Such a bother to pack your things and never settle down.

Back to the task at hand, I turn yet another corner and notice Cullen standing guard by a door. I casually approach him. His cheeks instantly flush red and sweat beads glisten his neck. "Oh, um, h-hello. I...uh, am glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly." He stutters.

"Why are you stuttering?" I ask, playing innocent. I know the answer, but I ask anyway.

"What? I-I'm fine." He lies through his teeth, and I can very well see that. "I...uh, I'm just glad you're all right. You know."

"Oh yes, you were there in the Harrowing chamber, weren't you? One of the templars assigned to strike me down if I turn into a nasty abomination." He nods.

"I would've felt terrible about it..." He trails off. "But...but I serve the Chantry and the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded." Such a hard worker. I give him credit for it.

"Well, then I shan't distract you from your duties, then?" I smile at him. Cullen's eyes widen and he gives a hasty smile back.

"Oh, you're not distracting. I mean, you are," He groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. "but...well I guess you're not. I mean, you can talk to me anytime if you want. Ah, yes, maybe we can talk another time."

"And so it shall be. Good day, Cullen." I turn and am off. From behind, I can just about feel his eyes pressed to my back, watching me walk away. Poor thing. The way he looks at me is so evident, yet I know that he mustn't. I am a mage, and he a templar. Well, it's either he looks at me like that for a reason, or I am simply misinterpeting his stuttering illness.

But, he is cute, I have to say that. I think this as I walk away, letting my mind wander. There is but one more door until I arrive in the First Enchanter's room. I can hear the voices of Greagoir and Irving drifting into the hallway. Eagerly, I enter.


	3. Duncan

As I walk in, I see Greagoir standing across from Irving. On their sides is a man who I do not recognize. It is no matter, however. Irving has called for me, but it seems he is busy? I guess I'll just have to eavesdrop. Oh, the sadness.

"...many have already gone to Ostagar - Wynne, Uldred and most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to this war effort-"

"Your own?" Irving gives a faint laugh. "Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under the Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?"

Greagoir's face seems to boil with rage. He points a dull finger at Irving. "How dare you suggest-" He is cut off by the unknown man.

"Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you." The man says, gesturing toward me. Irving and Greagoir both face me. Greagoir looks a bit red in the face. Probably from all the arguing. I don't question it. Especially if Irving looks as cool as a peach.

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come, Child." Irving smiles brightly at me. I smile back at him. The unknown man starts forward, no doubt trying to get a better look at me. Do I recall lost memories? Or was I spoken of prior to this event?

"Is this-" The man starts.

"Yes, this is she." Irving looks over at the man. I feel uneasy under the look and fidget a bit. I feel as if my entire being is being analyzed by this man. I want to call him out, but Greagoir beats me to saying a word.

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later. " Greagoir walks out, just brushing past me with his templar armor.

"Of course. Well, then...where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens." Irving says, clearly meaning the unknown man. I feel as if my jaw had fallen deep into the stone floors and was buried in. _The_ Grey Wardens? I have no doubt heart about the fabled legends of the Grey Wardens and how they defeat the darkspawn and ride their Griffons. Obviously, they will not be riding Griffons in the present. Griffons have long been extinct. It is a shame, though. I would love to see the beasts and stroke their feathers. The entire idea makes my fingers numb.

"P-Pleased to meet you." I say, somewhat star-struck. I try to keep my cool, but I can tell I'm doing a bad job at it. My face feels red hot, and judging by the amusement on both Duncan and Irving's face, I'm blushing as red as red can be.

"You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar." I nod to Irving's words. I know of the darkspawn and how their forces are growing thicker by the moment. The words that catch me the most, however, are those of Duncan recruiting mages. I am so lucky to be a mage, finally, and at this moment. It seems like a coincidence, more or less one that I will never forget. If I were to be recruited...oh, wow, that would be fantastic! But, I doubt I will ever get to show my skill to Duncan. Unless he is wandering through the tower and watching the mages at work, I doubt I will ever get the chance to show my skills, let alone leave this damned place.

"Really?" I say. Duncan nods.

"I fear if we don't drive them back, we may see another Blight." Duncan's words cut harshly through the air. I have not only read about the Grey Wardens, but also of Blights. The only way to distinguish a harsh battle of darkspawn and a Blight is the head of it all, an Archdemon. The idea of a terror that great coming into my home is terrifying. Irving seems to notice the slight paling of my face and gives a small laugh.

"Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for her. The Harrowing is behind you, child. You have done what most cannot, and that is something to be proud of. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi."

"My phylactery?" I ask. I truly do not know of this.

"You may not remember, but blood was taken from you when you first came to us. This blood is preserved within a phylactery."

"So they can be hunted if they turn apostate." Duncan adds to Irving. I want to roll my eyes and say, 'Well, you better be lucky I'm quite fine being here.' But that would be a lie on all degrees. I don't like it in the tower, but it is better than being hunted for the rest of my life, I suppose.

"We have few choices. The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove we are strong enough to handle our power responsibly.

You have done this. I present you with your robes, your staff and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia," Irving turns to fetch the pile from his desk. He hands them to me and I gingerly take them and hold them to my chest. I quickly place the ring on my finger. I'll have to dump this staff that I took somewhere. I'll put it in my chest or give it to some other mage who hasn't a staff. I'd rather the latter. There just doesn't seem to be enough room in the chest for it. I do not have an armoire either, so there really is no room. Perhaps, though, when I move the mages' quarters, I will have an armoire to put my staff in. "Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."

"Thank you, First Enchanter." I say, politely bowing in respect.

"It goes without saying that you will not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the rite." says Irving. My face flushes. Well, I really should not have told Jowan, now should I? This new knowledge makes me wonder if I may have effected whatever results he may have.

"Now, then... take your time to rest, or study in the library. The day is yours."

"But, if you don't mind me, I'd rather prefer to talk now. I've studied for so long and rested for enough." I smile hesitantly, unaware whether or not my words will get shot down. Rather, Irving chuckles.

"Impetuousness is ever the province of youth, I see." I give another tight smile. Why is it that I must act so proper? In spite of so, I loosen up a bit and drop the smile for a short nod.

"I will return to my quarters." Duncan says. Irving looks over at me.

"Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back to his room, child?" Irving asks of me. I decide, why not, because I know where his room is. While on my way to where I am now, I passed by a room with a mage who was telling me all about how he was cleaning this room for the special guest, a Grey Warden. Naturally, I can now presume that the Grey Warden is Duncan, and that I won't strain myself by walking just down the hall.

"Of course." I say, "Oh, and I know where his room is, if you can forgive me for being intrusive. While on my way here, I passed by a mage who told me the room was for a Grey Warden. They are on the east side of the floor, correct? Right by the library?" Irving and Duncan nod. Duncan seems to know where his room is, but Irving must want to make a good impression, or not, of the mages that may or may not be recruited into the King's Army. Though, I doubt that when mages and others of the army are fighting the darkspawn, we won't think much of polite manner.

"That is correct. You were always the observant one, Fiona. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have some matter to discuss with Greagoir." Irving turns on his heel and exits to go find Greagoir once more. I turn to the Grey Warden and he nods to me. We both exit the room. There is a bit of a silence as we walk to his room. I am glad it isn't too far off. The sounds of our shoes on the stone floor bounce off the walls and echo. It is oddly quiet in these halls. I am surprised that the sound of Greagoir's booming voice isn't breaking the silence.

Once we arrive, Duncan turns to face me. "Thank you for walking with me. I am glad for the company."

"It is no problem. Like Irving said, I have the day to myself. I might as well spend it making idle chit chat with people outside of this stone fortress." I tell him, looking up and around at the walls that at one point I thought of as home. Now that I am older, I feel like a trapped bird within a cage. I flutter my wings all that I like, but the best that I may do to get out is stick my beak out of the bars.

"Why were Irving and Greagoir arguing about the war?" I blurt out, not aware of my own curiosity. Duncan looks at me. He shakes his head once.

"It is not my place to comment." The Grey Warden says, not a word following after it.

"Please, I'd really like to know!" I beg of him. Duncan sighs and crosses his arms.

"Well, if you really wish to know. You see, Greagoir serves the Chantry, and the relationship between the Chanty and mages has always been strained," I nod, yes I know this. "So you have realized by now that the Chantry merely tolerates magic? They watch only because they feel they must." I find Duncan's story going no where, so I probe him further.

"Yes, but they were arguing about the _war_, never mind the relationship between the Chantry and mages."

"I was getting to that." Duncan says.

"Well, then I apologize. Do continue with what you were saying." I feel the bitter words sliding off my tongue. I try to mask them with cheer, but it does not feel the same. Hopefully I do not come off as hateful to Duncan. While I usually don't care what others think of me, I feel strangely as if I might attempt to be a naturally kind person around him.

"Any mage who joins the king's army can unleash their full power on the darkspawn. In fact, I'm counting on it. Greagoir may be afraid of the power that the mages may unlock, and what will happen. What if the mages decide they no longer want to be governed by the Chantry?"

"I see," I say, tapping my chin. "And what are your opinions on the matter?"

"I believe the darkspawn must be defeated, one way or another. My opinions end there."

"And what of the trouble brewing in the south? Are there any news on that?"

"The horde is growing near the Korcari Wilds. We Grey Wardens believe that there is an Archdemon behind it." My blood runs cold. There is that word again: _Archdemon_.

"An Archdemon? Are you sure? Would that not make this a true Blight?"

"There is much to be sure about, and much to be unsure about. The amount of darkspawn there is just clear evidence that something is rallying them up. The Archdemon. Yes, making this a true Blight. The Archdemon unite the darkspawn together, making them an unstoppable force."

I think back to the books I had read. In the last Blight, it was believed that all the darkspawn were gone. I decide to ask Duncan this. "We can't seem to eradicate them completely," he says, "They always come back, one way or another."

"I presume that the king is making an army to beat back the threat?" I ask. Duncan nods.

"Yes. We can only hope that it will be enough...if we play our cards right."

"Then I suppose all we must do is hope. Pray that the Maker will be on our side. " I say, bowing my head slightly.

"Yes, hope and pray, friend."


	4. Maleficar

(Skipping around again. PC agreed to help Jowan and Lily and didn't snitch to the First Enchanter 'bout them. End of quest sequence GO!)

The chill of the repository had ached well into my bones by the time we were back on the first floor. I rubbed my hands together as the three of us, Jowan, Lily and I, climbed the small set of stairs. I could tell by the intense look of happiness on both Jowan and Lily's face that our quest was successful. The sparks were just about fluttering between the two of them with love. In some way, I was jealous. Perhaps one day I would find love as pure as this. An initiate going through all of this trouble just to be with the man she loves.

"We did it!" Jowan shouts, a full smile on his face. "I can't believe it! Thank you...we could never have-"

"So what you said was true, Irving." Greagoir's easily recognizable voice drifts in as he, First Enchanter Irving and a few templars stroll in toward us. I can not help but drop my jaw in shock. What I'm really wondering is how on earth Greagoir and Irving knew that we would be here, doing...what should not be done. Regret instantly swarms through me. I should not have done this. I should not have broken the Circle's rules. But...it was for a friend. I had trust in Jowan that he was not a blood mage and did not deserve to be made tranquil. I knew him since we were both ten. He was not the kind of person to be compelled to become a maleficar. He was a nice, quiet kind of person. A true friend.

"This looks bad." I murmur to Jowan, who nods slightly.

"G-Greagoir!" Lily stutters over her own words like a shambling idiot. The least she could do was put up the facade that we weren't conspiring to help a mage escape the circle. My eyes flickered over to her and I glared. Lily caught my gaze in the corner of her eye and instantly straightened her back. But, by the way that the two most important people that we knew were staring at her, it was no surprise that her straight back slipped over a bit.

"An initiate, conspiring with a blood mage. I'm disappointed, Lily." Greagoir says, shaking his head and tsking. I want to say, 'Jowan isn't a blood mage!' but I'm frozen. Jowan aims a sympathetic look at Lily, something short of saying that it's alright and that she need not be afraid. Because he isn't a blood mage.

"She seems shocked," Greagoir analyzes Lily and inspects her, as if she was a specimen. "But fully in control of her own mind. Not a thrall of the blood mage, then." Greagoir turns and walks back to Irving. He takes his place beside the First Enchanter once more.

"You were right, Irving. The initiate has betrayed us. The Chantry will not let this go unpunished.

"And this one, newly a mage, and already flouting the rules of the Circle." A harsh glare from both Irving and Greagoir is aimed at me.

"I'm disappointed in you. You could have told me what you knew of this plan, and you didn't." Irving says, the glare turning from hate to sadness. The regret and guilt continue to wash over me like choppy waves under a brewing storm. I attempt to brush it off, knowing that what I did was right. While Greagoir continues to call Jowan a maleficar, I know it is not true, and that Jowan is innocent and has a gift like the rest of the mages and does not deserve to be stripped of such.

"You don't care for the mages!" Jowan sneers, pointing a finger at Greagoir. "You just bow to the Chantry's ever whim!" I inconspicuously pinch Jowan's arm.

"Jowan, please, do _not_ make it any worse! We are in enough trouble as it is." I hiss at him. Jowan shakes me off and I glare back at him, stepping a few feet to the right.

"Enough!" Greagoir shouts. "As knight-commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death. And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."

The templars edge closer to Lily. Jowan has taken a defensive stance and slightly shields her from the armored men. I slowly pull out my staff, not sure whether fighting is an option. Just in case, though, I do not fully pull out my staff. Time will tell whether the templars are a bigger threat than I would have imagined. "The mages prison!? No...please, no. Not there!" Lily shakes with fear.

"NO!" Jowan's scream rips out of this throat. "I won't let you touch her!" He reaches behind his back and pulls out a small, decorated dagger. He brings the dagger down onto the palm of his hand and stabs it. Blood splatters from the wound onto Jowan's face and clothes. The templars back away, their hands ready at their swords. Lily and I meet eyes and we back away, me sliding my staff fully out of my hands. Lily is backed into the corner. Blood seems to rise from the floor and circle all around Jowan, engulfing him in a strange, red haze. Jowan raises his blood covered palms and throws them down in the direction of the templars. Greagoir and Irving receive the blow as well, and everyone falls down. I am left standing, as is Lily. Hot tears threaten to add even more heat to my blush streaked face. I'm not embarrassed or flustered. I'm hurt.

"J-Jowan...What in Andraste's name have you done!?" I scream at him, the tears now falling down my face. I thought I trust Jowan. I thought he was my friend. He lied to me. He is a maleficar. Jowan turns to me, his head low.

"Fiona..." He whispers, then turns back to Lily. "Lily..." He murmurs. I shake my head at him and drop the staff, rushing over to Irving.

"By the Maker...blood magic! How could you? You said you never..." Lily is speaking as she begins crying as well. She doesn't do it loudly, but rather lets the tears silently fall.

"I admit, I...I dabbled! I thought it would make me a better mage!" Jowan says. It is lies, all lies. Mages learn what blood magic is, and the consequences of it. We were taught that maleficarum are bad, and forbidden. It is not something that would make another person a better mage. No. Jowan is just trying to fill Lily's head with lies...something to make her not be so afraid.

"I'm not an idiot, Jowan. Blood magic is evil. It corrupts people...changes them." I notice Lily in the corner of my eye stand her ground and wipe the tears from her eyes. Her face is now hate, rage and betrayal.

"I'm going to give it up," Jowan pleads. "All magic! I just want to be with you, Lily. Please, come with me..."

"I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice **everything** for you. I...I don't know who you are, blood mage. Stay away from me." Lily shuts her eyes and clenches her fists, not wanting to look at Jowan and the monster he's become. Jowan looks over at me as I sit beside Irving, trying to bring him to consciousness. I stare Jowan in the eyes, not a word escaping my mouth. I just stare at him, the angry tears still falling.

"A-And I trusted you as well. You were my friend, Jowan. Since the beginning. You helped me warm up to the Circle tower...not to be so cowardly. What happened to all of that? You are not the Jowan that I know and love. Leave, maleficar. Leave before Lily and I end up in a fate worse than death." I turn my head away from him. There is a moments hesitation before Jowan runs off, leaving the room in silence once more.

Once Jowan is gone, Irving slowly awakes. He sits up, clutching his side. "Are you alright? Where is Greagoir?" He croaks.

"Greagoir is here. I'm fine...just...terribly upset. Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm no spring chicken, however." Irving chuckles a bit before letting out a short cough. From behind him, Greagoir seems to spring to life and jumps to his feet.

"I knew it...blood magic," He seethes. "But to overcome so many...I never thought him capable of such power..." Greagoir, the might knight-commander, looks honestly shaken up. I can't say I blame him.

"Jowan lied...he said he wasn't a blood mage." I murmur, my hand shaking on my legs. Irving stands up, slowly, and reaches down with his hand outstretched. I take it and stand up, my legs wobbling like jelly. I don't know why I'm acting so cowardly. I'm not usually so...upset by things like this. It must be because Jowan was a true friend to me...and betrayed everyone that he loved for the forbidden art of blood magic.

"None of us expected this. Are you alright, Greagoir?" Irving asks.

"As good as can be expected, given the circumstances. If you had let me act sooner, this would not have happened! Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down." Greagoir lets most of his fury out on his words that are aimed at Irving. While I would like to say that Greagoir is simply making a mountain out of a molehill, I cannot. Jowan destroyed his phylactery. Thinking about that now, it makes me wonder if Jowan planned this all along. I doubt he would have escaped with me as well as Lily. If we were caught, he would have run away with her. That selfish bastard.

"Where is the girl?" Greagoir orders, looking around for her.

"I-I am here, ser." Lily squeaks from the corner of the room, still terribly angry and frightened by Jowan's act.

Greagoir rushes over to her. "You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"

"It is not her fault, ser! Lily didn't know Jowan was a blood mage. She is as surprised as the rest of us." I tell Greagoir from my stance next to Irving.

"You've been a friend, but you needn't defend me any longer." Lily says to me, confidence creeping around her words.

"Knight-Commander...I...I was wrong. I was accomplice to a...a blood mage," She breathes. "I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Even...even Aenoar."

"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir barks. The templars rush over to Lily and tightly grasp her arms. She does not fight as they just about drag her last person to give the consequences to...is me. Like Lily, I know that I let my biased opinion of Jowan cloud my view of the simple signs that something was wrong.

"And you," Greagoir sneers, turning to me and walking right in front of me. "You know why the repository exists. Some artifacts-some magics-are locked away for a reason!"

"Did you take anything important from the repository?" Irving asks. I shake my head, truthful in all words. There was a staff that I had found, a nice one at that, but I had decided against taking it. I was glad for that.

"Your antics have made a mockery of the circle! Ah, what are we to do with you?"

"I had no idea he was a blood mage." My pathetic words stream out of my mouth.

"And you think this excuses you? _You helped a blood mage escape_. All our prevention measures for naught-because of you!" Greagoir glares down at me while Irving has his arms crossed over his chest. My consequence is evident - Tranquility.

Suddenly, there is a familiar voice from behind. We all turn to see Duncan, the Grey Warden, entering. "Knight-Commander, if I may...I am not only looking for mages to join the king's army. I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens." My heart leaps in my chest. Could I be saved by the Grey Wardens? "Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."

Irving shakes his head. "Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and shown a lack of regard for the Circle's rules."

"She is a danger. To all of us." Greagoir says. I keep my chin up, even though I very well know the answer to Duncan's request.

"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need." says Duncan. "I stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage."

"NO! I refuse to let this go unpunished." Greagoir shouts.

I muster up what confidence I have that isn't clouded by guilt and regret and decide to speak. "Greagoir is right. I should face the consequences."

Greagoir scoffs. "Perhaps not all our lessons have been lost. She knows her place."

"Don't be a fool," Duncan says. "You have assisted a maleficar. You must know what awaits you in the Circle."

"Yes, I know, Tranquility. I was oblivious to the truth, and therefore deserve to be punished for it." I grab the sides of my robe with my hands and squeeze the fabric, trying to calm myself down as my heart races in my chest.

Duncan smiles down at me. "A waste of your gift. I offer you something more." I want to smile back ,to know that it will all be alright, but I know that I won't be safe in the end. I'll be like Owain...a husk of a human left only to breathe, eat and talk. The tears burn into the corners of my eyes. I dig my nail into the palm of my hand to stop the tears. I must be strong. No, I am strong. I will not show them that I am a weak, female mage. I am strong.

"What's he doing? Stop him! You are not taking this mage away!" Greagoir counters.

"You know Duncan can invoke the Right of Conscription if he wishes. We must comply." Irving gestures to Duncan. I tilt my head to the side, taken by his words. What is the Right of Conscription? It must be something that lets the Grey Warden conscript...and have a right to it. Perhaps all is not lost.

"He has a greater authority than you?" I ask.

"If the Grey Wardens wish to conscript someone, neither lord nor king can deny them." Irving explains. A beam of hope radiates down onto me, making my heart thump louder than ever. So...I will not be made Tranquil. I will live my life...I will honor myself by becoming a Grey Warden!

"Then I shall let my fate be decided for me." I confidently say, a ghost of a smile passing my lips.

"Greagoir, mages are need," Duncan looks Greagoir in the eye. "_This_ mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages - you know that.

"I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions." I want to smile and sing at the sheer joy that I will not be a tranquil...but saved and made a Grey Warden instead.

"A blood mage escapes, and his accomplice is not only unpunished, but is rewarded by becoming a Grey Warden!? Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving." Greagoir aims his anger at Irving. Like usual, First Enchanter Irving is calm and collected.

"Enough. We have no more say in this matter, Greagoir."

"So I am to be a Grey Warden?" I ask, just to clarify that this isn't some meant trick.

"Yes. Be proud, child. You are luckier than you know." Irving says. I smile back at Irving.

"Thank you for everything, First Enchanter." I thank Irving in the most polite way possible, even if he may be very disappointed in me. Jowan, a man who I cannot call my friend anymore, has somewhat given me a new chance at life, instead of ruining it. I want to thank the blood mage, but then I remember that I only want to thank him metaphorically. I hope to never see that dunce ever again.

"Come," says Duncan. "Your new life awaits."

And with that, the little bird named Fiona is finally released from her cage, and into a whole new world.

A/N: Sorry there's so much dialog in these first chapters. It's only because I'm following must of what happens in the cut-scenes. I promise there won't be so much once the story continues.


	5. Ostagar

_"We will be traveling south through the hinterlands to the ruins of Ostagar, on the edges of the Korcari Wilds. The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands. It's fittting we make our stand here, even if we face a different foe within that forest. The king's forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall."_

"Ho there, Duncan!" A blond man dressed in shiny, gold armor addressed Duncan as they met in the middle. By the looks of his armor, and the appearance of guards, I assumed that he was King Cailan. The guards hastily rushed after the King as he and Duncan shook hands.

"King Cailan? I didn't expect-"

"A royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!" The king smiled.

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty." Duncan seemed to be on friendly terms with the king of Ferelden, yet kept a serious expression. Well, he was the king. I'm sure that if someone were to say one word wrong within a joke, or make the wrong face, there could easily be a death arranged. But, then again, I don't think I've heard news of King Cailan being much of a tyrant. As far as I was aware, the king was a great ruler with his wife, Queen Anora Mac Tir, at his side.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all!" The king and Duncan stood beside each other. King Cailan tipped his chin up with a smile pressed on his lips. "Glorious! The other Wardens told me you've found a promising recruit. I take it this is she?"

King Cailan turned to me. "Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty."

"No need to be so formal, Duncan. We'll be shedding blood together, after all. Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?"

"I am Fiona, your Majesty." I say. It is more than an honor to not only become a Grey Warden, but to meet the King of Ferelden as well. I doubt many mages get this honor, unless of course they are in the king's army.

"Pleased to meet you! The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them.

"I understand you hail from the Circle of Magi. I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?" I nod to the king.

"Of course, your Majesty. Ferelden is my home, and I intend to use all of my spellpower to keep the darkspawn at bay." I keep my words true and honest. Ferelden is my home. My mother may have come from Orlais, but as far as I am aware, I was born and raised for the few years of my life in Ferelden. I've come to love it.

"Excellent. We have too few mages here, another is always welcome. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks."

"You flatter me, your Majesty." I say, feeling that darned blush creeping on my cheeks. A short smile reaches the king's lips, and I feel the need to crawl into a small ditch somewhere far away.

"I'm sorry to cut this short," The King says, "but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies."

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week." says Duncan. For a second, I had forgotten all about him. What a terrible person I am.

King Cailan scoffs, turning and standing between two of his knights. "Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory. We've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow will be no different." The King speaks with such...a hubris. With his manner of words, I know that I must not speak out, but I also know that the darkspawn are ferocious creatures who seem to not be able to go down without a long, hard fight. With the King's cheap claim that tomorrow will not be any different than a few previous battles makes my gut feel as if someone has taken their hands and played with my insides as if I was a toy. I can just tell that something may go wrong...very wrong. But, it has been many times that I've felt that way; as if I have a second manner for telling the future. They have not all been correct.

One year, when I was around twelve, I had told Jowan that I had a bad feeling about a new apprentice that had come that day. The boy had long, dark hair and a foreboding appearance. I warned Jowan that the boy was dangerous, and that we mustn't associate with him. However, when I learned the truth, I realized how stupid of me it was to not even second guess the poor fellow. I had been a fool, and the only reason the boy was like that was because his family had been murdered in front of his eyes, and his only way of escaping was by magic, which alarmed other farmers in the area who whisked him away to the Chantry. When I learned of that, my heart ached. I was like him. We were the same in a way. Instantly, once I knew, I rushed over to him and demanded that I became his friend. We clicked, since the both of us had a harrowing past. Needless to say, we had stayed friends for years after, our friendship only halting when he had been possessed by a demon and turned into an abomination, and slain immediately by the templars.

Snapping back to reality, I focus my eyes on the King. "I didn't realize things were going so well." I say, and the King gives me a fair smile.

"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an archdemon." King Cailan has turned around to stare aimlessly past the bridge and to the camp. I follow his gaze to see his eyes transfixed on the tops of the trees within the Korcari Wilds.

"Disappointed, your Majesty?" Duncan breaks the short moment of silence.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god!" King Cailan turns around again,"But I suppose this will have to do.

"I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!" Duncan and I politely bow, my hands over my chest as I bend forward. King Cailan turns once more and heads off the bridge, his two knights at his side. Duncan and I are left in silence as we watch the King walk off.

I turn to Duncan, expecting him to say something about the matter at hand. Indeed, he speaks. "What the king said is true. They've won several battles against the darkspawn here."

"Yet you don't sound very reassured." I raise a brow. Duncan gestured toward the bridge and I nod, following him as we walk.

"Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us. I _know_ there is an archdemon behind this. But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling."

"Why not? He seems to regard the Grey Wardens highly, especially yourself."

"Yet not enough to wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais. He believes our legend alone makes him invulnerable. Our numbers in Ferelden are too few. We must do what we can and look to Teyrn Loghain to make up the difference. To that end, we should proceed with the Joining ritual without delay." My ears perk up when Duncan mentions the Joining. A ritual?

"A hot meal would be nice first." I say, crossing my arms. While the phrase would usually be in a joking sort of way, I find my nerves are somewhat frayed and I'm feeling temperamental. The sheer experience of the several weeks that took to get from Lake Calenhad to Ostagar seemed to have put a permanent damper on my stomach. At the tower, I'm fairly used to meals during meal times, and not a shortage of it. Sometimes the younger apprentices would attempt to conjure up little foods and treats to eat. They usually didn't end up as well as expected.

Duncan gives a short chuckle. "I agree! We have until nightfall to begin the ritual," and in case I didn't know what the Joining was completely, Duncan began to explain as much as he could about the secret Joining. "Every recruit must go through a secret ritual we call the Joining in order to become a Grey Warden. The ritual is brief, but some preparation is required. We must begin soon."

"Why is this ritual so secret?" I ask.

"The Joining is dangerous. I cannot speak more of it except to say that you will learn all in good time. Until then, you must trust that what is done is necessary." My stomach gets that gut-wrenching feeling again. I know something is wrong. The whole secretive demeanor to the ritual spells out trouble. But, it is either this secret ritual or be made Tranquil back at the tower.

"Is this...anything like the Harrowing?" I press further, Curious Fiona stumbling out of her hiding spot.

"It is an ordeal. I am sorry that you must endure another so soon." I give a small sigh, but shake my head to clear my thoughts and emotions.

"One last question, I promise. Am I the only recruit you have?"

"No, there are two other recruits here already. They have been waiting for us to arrive. Ser Jory and Daveth are their names, in case you happen to run into them somewhere in the camp." I nod to Duncan and glance over my shoulder at the blinding blue sky that reaches above the heavens and dances with the clouds and the sun. It is so mesmerizing...intoxicating. I don't understand why the templars always said that Ferelden was boring, and mostly farms. This was nothing like that! It was beautiful..and something that I've only seen out of a book with little to no illustrations, and even if there are, they are without any color.

"Wonderful. Let's get this over with, then." I turn and walk with Duncan the rest of the way to the bridge. We had stopped part way to talk.

"Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruits. Until then, I have business I must attend to you. You may find me at the Grey Warden tent on the other side of this bridge, should you need to." Duncan turns and leaves. I would follow, just to get to the other side of the bridge and explore, but I'm still dumbfounded by the beauty of the sky, and the trees...and fresh air. Life in the tower can get cramped and dusty and smell like books and burnt flesh. You do get used to it, but when and if you ever get the chance to leave...tis wonderful. I can see why, now.

Being outside gives me a sheer sense of nostalgia as my mind clambers back to the memories of the past. I can barely remember my childhood before I was sent to the Circle of Magi. Most of it is a blur, but I can make out few to no images and parts that really stand out...and mark me as a troubled soul.

A lone tear slips out of my eye, and I don't know why. I quickly brush it away, hoping that no one saw. I straighten my shoulders and clear my throat, turning to face the bridge.

My new life waits beyond the bridge.

I'm ready.


	6. JosephAlistair

How the sky did shine on the crumbled, aged ruins of Ostagar. My back was warm, a change from the pressing, cold, stone walls of the tower. My face was arm as well, and it was an enjoyable feeling. I felt like an alien in a foreign land, and could tell by the reception from the occasional soldier that walked by. I didn't care, and for once, didn't care about the time either. But, I had a task at hand, and that was to find this Alistair fellow and get on with the preparation for the Joining- my savior.

I had already had a small bowl of something and was quite content. While I'd rather be selfish and simply bask in the sun, my belly full and my heart soaring, I knew that in a time such as this, there was no time for selfish emotions. The importance was defeating the darkspawn, and saving Ferelden. Guilty pleasures could wait.

Quickly, I made my way to the Quartermaster. With the little money I had, I could still trade in the odds and ends I'd found in the tower and on the way to Ostagar. I have a bit of a habit, you see, for collecting oddities. Whether it be a shiny rock that seems to call to me, or a beautifully crafted amulet found lying around. Back in the tower, I found i had no use for them except for keeping them as my little treasures. Now that I was out in the open, with barters and shopkeepers, I could sell them! The trip to the Quartermaster made my bag almost twitch with excitement.

The Quartermaster had a small little inlet of the camp for himself, with several bookshelves filled with armor and dummies dressed in them. Beside the camp stood a man who leather armor who was trying to sweet-talk a blond soldier. I watched the interaction, fairly amused by the girl's lack of response to his flirts. I stifled a laugh behind my hand when she turned on her heel and left the poor fool standing there. I must have made a noise, because he then turned around.

"Well," He took a step back, analyzing me. "You're not what I thought you'd be." He says. I narrow my eyes in a half-glare, not totally menacing but still getting a point across. I rest my hands on my hips and raise a brow.

"And what did you think I'd be?" I ask.

"Not a woman. Yet, here you are." He gives a short laugh. "The name's Daveth. It's about bloody time you came along. I was beginning to think they cooked this ritual up just for our benefit." There the people go again with the obvious paranoia. I'm starting to really hate that word...that feeling. _Paranoia_. It should go away.

"Isn't that a little _paranoid_?" I breathe the word out, hating every last ounce of it. Daveth gives another short laugh.

"Ha! That depends on what kind of life you've led. Me, I'm perfectly willing to accept that this Joining is some kind of punishment. I happened to be sneaking around camp last night, see, and I heard a couple of Grey Wardens talking. So I listen in for a bit. I'm thinking they plan to send us into the Wilds."

"The Korcari Wilds?" I ask, and Daveth nods. "Why would they send us into the forest?"

"Sounds like some kind of test. Maybe we'll hunt us a souvenir or two. It's all too secretive for me. Makes my nose twitch. But I guess we'll have to wait and see. Like we have a choice." He shrugs.

"Well, I'll watch your back if you watch mine." I offer a bit of what sympathy I can offer for Daveth. Of course, there's little...but only because he's so paranoid. Paranoia will drive one to their downfall. Paranoia made Jowan a blood mage...and I won't let paranoia take me, or anyone I know and love.

"Oh ho, I'll definitely be watching _your_ back." Daveth smirks and I feel my face flush indefinitely. I cross my arms over my chest and give him another glare. But, rather than being all serious, a small laugh escapes my throat. I honestly don't know where in Andraste's name it came from. Perhaps it was a way of attempting to smooth down my rifled feathers. Or just a way to provide a haughty exterior to the shambling little girl.

"Just don't get too distracted back there." I say, uncrossing my arms.

"No Promises." Daveth gives a smile before walking off. I give a sigh, shaking my head. I see the Quartermaster only a few feet away and chat with him a bit. There's an elf woman who he says hasn't returned with his armor. I had looked around once or twice, maybe hoping to see her, but it was fruitless, and she wasn't even there. The Quartermaster continued on, apologizing for pulling me into his issues. We barter and I sell most of my things; the stuff I don't need. I buy a new robe, a nice pair of boots and some lyrium potions and health poultices. I thank the Quartermaster and head off.

The new robes and shoes feel even more better than the mage's robes that Senior Enchanter gave me. I snuggle deep into the fabric, noting the dark reds and the brilliant gold trim. The shoes make me feel as if I'm walking on clouds. These were definitely worth the buy. I wouldn't want to be fighting darkspawn in an uncomfortable ensemble, now would I? No, I wouldn't at all.

The scenery becomes familiar once more and I pass by the Quartermaster to the ruins. This has been a part of the camp that I haven't checked out yet. I intend to find every little part of the camp and now it. Another quirk of mine.

There's a short, stone ramp and I head up it just in time to see a dark skinned and black haired mage ranting at a fair skinned man. I stroll up to the both of them, eavesdropping or just waiting to say something. It doesn't matter, because no one notices.

"What is it now? Haven't Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?" The mage asks, annoyance rising in his voice.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage. She desires your presence." The other man asks. He's not a mage. I decide to call him Joseph.

"What her Reverence 'desires' is of no concern to me! I am busy helping the Grey Wardens- by the king's orders, I might add!" The mage hisses, glaring at Joseph.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?" Joseph asks, and I stifle a giggle. Either they are too full of themselves to notice me, or I've become better at hiding my laughs, because they still don't seem to notice me.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"

"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message." Joseph sarcastically says.

"Your glibness does you no credit." The mage tightens his mouth and ensues a larger glare at Joseph. Nothing seems to strike the mighty Joseph down, and he stands his guard, not at all disturbed by the award winning mage glare.

"Here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you...the grumpy one." Joseph gives another sarcastic comment, and I'm giggling like a maniac by now. Whether or not it's because some slipped something into my meal or that I've never heard arguments like these before, I don't know.

But, it seems the argument has ended and the mage has had enough. "Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must! Get out of my way, fool!" The mage gives a last glare at Joseph and turns, brushing his shoulder past mine and even has the audacity to glare at me! What did I do, exactly? Stand there and observe how well mages can get angered?

Suddenly, Joseph turns to me and starts walking in my direction. Why is my heart fluttering?

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." Joseph says, and I can't tell if he's joking or not. Clearly he is, because he smiles at my next words.

"I know exactly what you mean."

"It's like a party, we could all stand in a circle and hold hands. **That** would give the darkspawn something to think about." Joseph smiles at his own joke. "Wait," he grows a bit serious. "we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?"

I raise a brow. Does the dress not give it away? The staff behind my back? "I am indeed a mage." I say.

"Really? You don't look like a mage. Uh...that is..I mean...how interesting." Joseph seems genuinely surprised that I am a mage. Why? Well, I can only assume that his mental image of a mage is solely driven by the grumpy one's attitude. Then, his eyes glitter with recognition. They're a sort of hazel color. From my standpoint, I can note bits of green with brown floating around the center of it. It's really nice, actually.

"Wait, I **do**__know who you are. You're Duncan's new recruit, from the Circle of Magi. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize."

"Oh, that's all right. I mean, it's not like you knew my face or anything. No offense taken." I say to Joseph, a brief smile on my face. Half my mind is screaming at me that this isn't Joseph, but Alistair. The other half is telling me to wait and see. Wait and see.

"Good. You didn't really catch me at my finest with the mage there.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Alistair, the new Grey Warden, though I guess you knew that." Ah, so Joseph is Alistair. The left half of my brain was correct, and I give it the approval.

"Actually, I was calling you Joseph for a while. I wasn't sure if you were Alistair or not. Glad you are, though. I mean, well not that I'm glad that you are...but...nevermind." I'm blushing more than usual. I clench my fists and turn my head, avoiding Alistair's glance.

"Are you all right?" He asks and I nod.

"Yeah, just peachy." I breathe through clenched teeth. Alistair freezes but then relaxes back.

"Right...well, as the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining." Great. Great. As if my face couldn't get any more red.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Fiona." I say, glancing up a bit and at Alistair. His eyes widen and he gives a loud, "oooh".

"Right, that's the name." He says and I smile.

"Well, uh, anyway, let's get going, now, shall we?" I say, starting to turn.

"Oh, yeah, sure. If you have any questions, just ask." Alistair says from behind my back and I hurry forward. I can hear him following, and for a moment, I really wish that he wasn't. I'm acting as dumb as Cullen and I'm shining as red as red can be.


	7. The Joining

(A/N I'm sorry for skipping around again. I should not have skipped past the meeting of Morrigan...well, it may come back later. Anyway, I'm sorry. I just wanted to get to the interesting part ya know?)

"The more I hear about this Joining the less I like it." Ser Jory grumbled, pacing back and forth. I walked up to the group, feeling my own nerves on their ends. I was nervous...yes, there was no denying it. It didn't matter how many words I said or how many words other people said. I was scared and I was worried. What would happen? Duncan had said that this was just as bad as the Harrowing...or something similar of it. Still, that didn't make me feel any better. My eyes flickered over to Alistair and he caught my gaze. My face instantly reddened and I looked away, focusing my emotions on the paranoid Ser Jory.

"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth frowned.

"Why all these damn tests!?" Ser Jory says, throwing his hands up. "Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition...maybe they're trying to annoy you." Daveth snickered a bit and I couldn't help but utter a bit of a giggle myself. It somewhat helped to lower the stress. It wasn't a dent in the stress, but I suppose that every little bit counts.

"Calm down, the both of you. There's nothing we can do about it now. Let's just muster what courage we can and face this head on." It sounds inspiring enough.

"I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me...it just doesn't seem fair." Ser Jory sighs, looking up at the sky. The stars blink in the cloudless stretch of night. A faint wind rustles the trees and blows my hair into my mouth. I cough and sputter, dragging it out and gagging a bit. It's not the prettiest sight, but I can't help it, now can I?

"Would you have come if they'd warned you? Maybe that's why they don't. The Wardens do what they must, right?" Daveth offers some words of encouragement. They sound almost as good as mine. Maybe even better. No, they are better.

"Including sacrificing us?" Ser Jory raises a brow.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Daveth murmurs, his face hardening. "You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them?"

"I..."

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn, we'll die for sure."

"I've just never faced a foe I could no engage with my blade." Ser Jory whispers, half to himself and half to Daveth. I offer him a look of sympathy as Duncan approaches from behind. I flinch, only because I hadn't heard him coming till now. In the corner of my eye I see Alistair smirk at me, and that only makes me wiggle even more.

"At last we come to the Joining," Duncan says as he comes to stand near us. He stands in front of the table and faces us. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint." Duncan pauses and my blood runs cold. So, that must be what the three vials of darkspawn blood were for when we went into the Korcari Wilds. Oh, I should have known. The number was so coincidental, I suppose it never came to mind that there were _three_ vials of blood to collect and _three_ Grey Warden recruits.

"We're...going to drink the blood of those...those creatures?" Jory stutters, his eyes widening in fear as he looks at Duncan. I would do that too, but I can't seem to move. I'm frozen with fear and nervousness. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory." Duncan steps forward.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon." Alistair offers up a bit of helpful information. I negotiate it carefully. If that is what it takes to slay the archdemon, then it makes sense why it was always the Grey Wardens who did the job, not civilians. It all seems to flow nicely through my head. But then his words run through my head again and again. _Those who survive_. Wait...those who survive!? A chill runs down my back.

"Those who survive?" I squeak out. I clear my throat and say the words again, a fresh blush forming over my cheeks. Oh Maker, why me? Why must I be cursed with the complexion of a bloody rose bush?!

"Not all who drink the blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

I hold my breath as Alistair gives a somber look and stares down. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn," My heart gives another flutter. His voice is just so creamy...Oh, Maker, I sound so desperate. I mustn't! This is serious. The Grey Wardens are serious. The life or death factor is very serious! So, with much power, I manage to subdue Flirty Fiona and keep her beneath the bottom of Curious Fiona, who is evermore interested in the Joining. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

I close my eyes and pray to the Maker that we will survive. Duncan turns toward the table and grabs a large goblet. There is already blood in there. Duncan then faces Daveth, the goblet outstretched in his hands.

"Daveth, step forward."

All is silent and tense as Daveth approaches Duncan. My fists are curling and uncurling at my sides. A pulse of heat runs through my body. Daveth may die. But, I'm glad we ended on a comfortable note. Subtle acquaintances who never passed or fell beyond that line. I look over to see Alistair is perplexed, but as nervous as the rest of us. Ser Jory has backed up. It looks as if he is trying to melt in with the stone walls.

Daveth clasps the goblet from Duncan and lifts it, slowly. He drinks from it and hands the cup back to Duncan. Daveth takes a step backward, and seems alright. But then, he staggers. He seems to tilt and sway, one hand pressed up against his forehead. Daveth doubles over in pain, screams ripping from his throat. I watch in horror. I still can't move...can't breathe...can't think. He jerks upward, his eyes solid white.

"Maker's breath." Jory whispers aloud. Daveth claws at his throat as he screams and moans. He falls to his knees and is clawing at the ground; at his throat.

"I am sorry Daveth." Duncan says as Daveth gives a final breath and collapses onto the stone ground. There is a sheer silence as we all watch in horror. I can't take it anymore. I feel the pain prickling my stomach and rushing up my throat. My hand flies to my mouth as I swallow back the bile, a shiver running down my spine. Just as I think that I won't be able to do it, I steady myself. I'm doing this for Jowan, the bastard he is. I'm doing this for Mother...Father...Sister and Brother. I'm doing this for them. I'm going to become a Grey Warden. I can do this. I breathe in and out slowly, calming down. My face is still flushed, but I'm not so shaky. Daveth's cold, dead body is still frightening, but I look away.

"Step forward, Jory." Duncan tears his eyes from Daveth and turns to look at Jory. The goblet looks deathly in his hands. I can almost see the sweat dotting Jory's forehead and running down his cheek.

"But...I have a wife. A child! Had I known..." Ser Jory backs up, even getting the nerve to draw his sword. Duncan seems calm, which reminds me of Irving. My eyes go back and forth from Duncan to Jory.

"There is no turning back." Duncan murmurs.

"No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!" Jory shouts, holding his blade out in front of him. It quivers and shakes like a leaf. He presses his back against the wall. Duncan is closer to Jory now, and with one hand draws his dagger from its holster. I look to Alistair for support, or just a bit of outside emotion in the argument, but he's looking down...terribly upset. I give a small, shaky sigh and watch.

Ser Jory makes the first strike. He thrusts forward but Duncan parries the blow. There is the sound of swords hitting each other for a moment. Jory attempts to hack at Duncan's blade but Duncan is too quick. I flinch and look away just as the small blade guts into Jory. While I didn't know either for too long, I still feel extremely frightened. No one prepared me for this. I'd never seen an abomination being slayed in the tower, so I wasn't used to sword fighting. The amount of blood that had gushed out of Jory before I looked away was startling. The hot tears clouded my vision, but I brushed them away and padded my eyes with the heel of my hands.

"I am sorry." I hear Duncan whisper as Jory groans and moans. There is the sound of Duncan pulling the blade out of Ser Jory, and he gives one last cry. Ser Jory falls to the ground in a heap, blood everywhere. I choke back on a sob and press a hand to my mouth. In the corner of my blurry vision, I see Alistair has come out of his sad state and is just as terrified as myself.

"But the Joining is not yet complete." Duncan says and I whip my head up to look at him. I want to shake my head...say no...but I can't. It's die...or die...or live. I must do this. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good, Fiona." My name sounds like a ghost. I _feel_ like a ghost. Duncan hands me the goblet, and with shaking hands I grab it with both. I bring the goblet up to my lips and drink from the blood.

At first, nothing happens. I know that this won't be for long. Like Daveth, I will probably writhe around screaming and shouting.

But it isn't that simple.

It feels as if someone is shoving a thousand hot swords into my throat as the blood travels down. There is a stinging taste that electrifys my whole mouth...and everything feels numb. My throat burns...but I can stand it. I can breathe...swallow.

"From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." Duncan says as he and Alistair back up. I want to ask why, but then a painful band stretches across my forehead. It's hot and feels more painful; like the thousand hot swords slicing through my head one sword at a time. I press my face into my hand as the dull, hot pain works its way into my whole body. I feel dizzy and begin to sway and rock. There are two Alistairs and three Duncans. I steady myself and lower my hand, the pain now in my eyes. Black and white dots swirl in front of my eyes as I look up. My whole vision is clouded in white.

A dragon roars in front of a bright green sky. The images seem to pulse like they are alive. Like I'm right there and it's roar is causing my vision to beat. The dragon turns it's head and seems to stare at me right in the eye.

Then everything goes black.


	8. Night Terror

_"Mama? Papa? Where are you? Please, come out!" I cry out. I'm nine years old, a small girl with long blond hair and bangs that tickle my eyes. I feel the tears running down my cheeks as I sniffle and sob. The salty tears trickle into my mouth and lay over my cuts and scratches on my face. They burn. But not as much as the pain of where my mother and father are._

_"Please! Someone! Come out!" I'm screaming, hoarse in the throat. The grass beneath my feet turns to cobblestone and dirt as I make my way up the path from the field to the house. I've checked everywhere...but I can't find them. Yet, something drives me back to the house. I've checked it over again and again. Yet, they have to be there._

_I burst through the door and find that the house is quiet. The chill of the silence runs along my bony arms and legs and through the fabric of my homemade dress. Mama had made it for my eighth birthday. It's dirty, but I don't think she cares. She might when she and Papa come out...if they ever do._

_"Aislin? Addis?" I call out my brother and my sister, but they don't respond either. I'm becoming hysterical now, not knowing where to go or who to go to. In the corner of the room I see the fire lit and crackling. The rocking chair is rocking. Mama's golden hair falls over the top in waves of gold and silver. Aislin and Addis are lying on the ground in front of the fire. They are still._

_"Mama!" I cry, running toward the chair. I fly into her arms and snuggle deep into her clothes. I long for her warm arms to wrap around me, but they don't. She feels cold...stiff. I sniff deep into her, waiting for that motherly scent, but it smells like iron. I realize that Mama's dress is wet. I pull back, looking at her._

_Mama's eyes are open wide and rolled up. I can just barely see the blue of her eye. Her mouth hangs open and blood spills from it, rolls down her cheek and splatters onto her breast. Her clothes are ripped and covered in blood. Her arms are scratched and beat. The chair is rocking...but Mama isn't rocking it._

_"Mama..." I whisper and sob loudly. I turn on my heel and look at my brother and sister as they lay on the ground. Aislin's honey colored hair is strewn around her, most of it covering her face. Her older, elegant face is like a younger version of Mama and an older version of myself. I bend down and brush her hair back and scream at the sight of her face._

_She has a black eye that is swollen shut, and the other eye is wide open...like Mama. Except, her eye isn't rolled up. It's staring at me. Staring right through me. Her mouth hangs open and bruises line her jaw. Her nose is bent at an odd angle. Her arms and legs are like that too. _

_"Aislin? Addis?" I murmur, weeping heavily. I crawl over to Addis and look at him. He is beaten up like Aislin, but a knife protrudes from his chest and just barely comes out the other side. I place my small, dirty hands around the hilt of the blade and yank it out. Fresh blood jumps from the wound and splashes on me. I gasp and hug the blade to me._

_"MAMA! PAPA! AISLIN! ADDIS!" I scream out, the sobs coming out as the words flow. I'm choking on my words and I feel like I can't breathe. I stand up. _

_Maybe Papa is alive? He's not here..._

_"Papa?" I scream out. Suddenly there is a banging on the door and the windows. Shadows scurry from window to window and I can't help but put both hands on my ears. _

_"Go away!" I shout. "Go away!" I fall to my knees and curl into a ball, crying and screaming. The door bursts open behind me and footsteps rush in._

_"What in Andraste's name-"_

_"Oh god."_

_"The child! She's got the knife...she's covered in blood."_

_"She did it!"_

_"No, little Fiona would never do that. She'd never harm a fly!"_

_"I heard she's got magic. Revka didn't want to turn her into the Chantry because it's her little girl."_

_"The apostate must of turned on her family. How terrible."_

_I didn't do it. I didn't do it. I didn't do it._

Wake up.


	9. The Undeniable Crush

"It is finished."

I gasp loudly and my eyes open. My heart is racing and my head is pounding. I'm so confused. I focus to see Duncan and Alistair standing over me. I lay a hand at my breast and feel my heart race.

"Welcome." Duncan says and they back away. I slowly sit up, my hand crawling to the back of my head as the tight band around my forehead seems to grow tighter. I still feel a bit dizzy. When I stand, I wobble a bit and Alistair and Duncan reach for me, but I brace myself on the table behind me. My hands are shaking when I bring them to my face. I'm still alive...still breathing. I'm not nine again and I'm not reliving my life back in Highever.

"Two more deaths," Alistair says, a somber look returning to his face. "In my Joining, only one of us died. But, it was...horrible," Alistair pauses and looks me dead in the eye. Even though I'm dreadfully weak and full of pain, my cheeks flare up and run across the bridge of my nose. I can feel the heat. "I'm glad at least one of you made it through." He looks away again, breaking the eye contact. I look away myself, the tears threatening to burst. I'm upset, horribly confused and horribly in pain. But I won't cry. Not here, not now.

"How do you feel?" Duncan asks, concerned. I snap my attention back to him and give a slow shrug.

"This was...worse than the Harrowing. I...I can't believe you killed Ser Jory." I murmur, recalling the sword-fight and the eventual death of Jory. The sounds...the blood. Oh, it's all coming back...

"Jory was warned there was no turning back; as were you all. When he went for his blade, however, he left me no choice. It brought me no pleasure to end his life. The Blight demands sacrifices from us all, thankfully you stand here as proof they're not all made in vain." Duncan seems genuinely depressed that he had to kill Jory. As much as I want to believe him...there are so many factors. But, I suppose that Duncan is right. We were told there was no turning back, and that being a Grey Warden is serious and important. Hell, being a Grey Warden is something that can end the Blight! Stop the madness and save Fereldan.

"Did you have dreams?"

I froze, my head turning slowly to Alistair. The tears a threatening again...biting at the corner of my eyes. "I had terrible dreams after my Joining." He looks at me again, but I look away and at Duncan.

"Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come." Duncan explains and I nod, trying to understand. It is still a shock to believe that I'm a Grey Warden... a real one. I survived the Taint. As Duncan says, it won't be easy. Nothing is easy, as I've come to learn.

"Before I forget, there is one last part to your Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us of those who didn't make it this far." He hands me the necklace and I take it with shaking hands. I slide it over my head and feel the weight against my chest. The necklace is warm to the touch in the center, but the outside of the silver lining is cool, like a dip in a cold lake.

"Take some time. When you are ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king." Duncan asks me and I nod, crossing my arms and holding myself.

"As you wish." I say, closing my eyes. I'm going to run back to my tent after this, alone at last.

"The meeting is west down the stairs. Please attend as soon as you are able." Duncan says, and with that he turns and departs down the stone steps. Alistair follows after him, running a few paces faster than Duncan. I take it slow, waiting for the two to be out of my sight before I dart back to the Women's camp. I fly into my tent and onto the bedroll. I bury my head into the pillow and begin to cry. The emotions within me are running rampant, and I can't control them. I'm too exhausted to attempt it.

My hands clench into fists as I beat into the ground. Angry tears fall. Sad tears fall. Confused tears fall. I think back to the dream...

Why must they come now? At the Circle of Magi, I never had these dreams. I knew what happened of my family, but it never appeared so vividly in my dreams. It only started when I left. I kept it to myself when I was traveling with Duncan, but it is almost impossible now, and will prove to be. Now that I have dreams plagued with darkspawn and archdemons, it won't be shameful to say that the dreams will be heightened. This last one was already so much more real than the ones post Joining.

I'm afraid of what's to come.

My eyes beg to close and let sleep overcome me, but I refuse and jerk upward. I place my head in my hands and weep some more. Not only for my family, but for everything coming to me. Especially Alistair.

Alistair...

Nothing will happen, I know that. I'm a fellow Grey Warden who will be a friend, but nothing more. We will kill darkspawn together, but I can't let anything happen. What if he dies? What if I die? Our hearts would collapse into the cavity and everything would go wrong. Love does that to you.

But I can't.

My heart yearns for him to wrap his arms around me and hold me close, keep me warm. I long to tell someone, anyone, of my past and get rid of the guilt that surrounds it. The mystery. Anything to clear my mind. I long for someone to love. I can imagine us sitting by a fire, my head in his lap as we talk about...life. Yes, life. He would stroke my hair and I would be lulled by the fire, willing to sleep. I would turn my head and he would bend down, brushing his soft lips against mine-

NO!

I grab a fistful of my hair and yank at it. The pain is sharp, but it's better than these disturbing images. I must stop! I mustn't continue with these...these imaginative scenes. For once, I really know how Cullen feels. How me must feel. This must be him, sitting and raging and imagining. Why must the world be so cruel?

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and forbid it from ever thinking of Alistair that way, ever again. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands and rub them on my robes. I reach in my pack for a small hand-mirror, something I had found while in the Circle Tower. I look at my face and observe it. My curved nose it flushed by a blush, and my cheeks are a dying pink. My eyes are slightly red, clouding out the bright blue. If I give myself a moment, my eyes will return to their normal white hue and my face may still blush, but for all of those who know me, that's basically everyday.

So, I wait. I think about happy things. I recall lost memories of the Circle Tower and playing with my friends and with Jowan. How we would pursue our studies in a scholar-like manner, but not entirely diplomatically. When the mages would ask, we would be diplomatic and attempt to persuade them that we weren't doing anything. One time, I had been caught setting a book on fire because I was upset. My back was to the door and I was rotating the book in the air, letting the pages set on fire. Someone had walked in, but I hadn't heard them. Their voice had interrupted my trance and I gasped, dropping the fiery book and setting a loose robe on fire. I had let out a shout and attempted to stomp out of the fire, ultimately using an ice spell to freeze the dress. The mage who had caught me was a middle aged woman, with graying brown hair tied into a tight bun. Her wise, kind face had approached me and consoled me.

_"You didn't need to set that book on fire, did you?" She had asked me and I had shook my head, my embarrassment clear on my red cheeks. The woman had brushed my cheek and wiped a tear. I hadn't known that I was crying, and desperately attempted to wipe the rest of the tears away. "You don't need to cry, either. I was like you, once. I hated everything, an angsty girl only a few years older than you. But I found the light at the end of the tunnel, and realized how idiotic I was being."_

_"I'm not an idiot!" I had shouted at her. She only smiled._

_"What's your name?" She asked me._

_"Fiona..." I muttered, my brow furrowed. The woman had smiled at me. _

_"My name is Wynne, Fiona. That's a very pretty name, you know. It means 'fair lady', but also 'someone who causes damage and destruction wherever they tread'."_

_"What!? I don't cause damage! I'm a good mage!" I had clumsily trying to convince Wynne that I wasn't at all what my name meant. She gave me a short laugh and had lied a hand on my shoulder._

_"Damage isn't always physical, Fiona. Sometimes it is damage cause to others 'here'," she points to my head. "Or here." she points to my heart. I look down, ashamed. "Do you know who's book that was? Or who's robe?"_

_I shook my head._

_"That could have been someone's late mother's robe, or someone's book about their family history." She had told me, and I looked over my shoulder at the destroyed book and robe. I had started to cry again, a deep sob knocking through my chest. Wynne shushes me politely with one finger at her lip and gave me a small smile._

_"But you don't have to be destructive. This is why you are here, at the Circle. I learned that the hard way. I wasn't here to give you a lecture, dear. I was only here to stop that book from lighting the whole wing on fire. However, will you take my advice?"_

_I nodded. Wynne smiled at me and stood up._

_"You will be a great mage one day, Fiona. Don't ever deny that. You iced that robe in a record time, something I've never seen in an apprentice. Have high hopes, child. May the Maker guide you." Wynne had said to me before turning on her heel and walking out the door. I had watched her for a while, but then slumped to the ground and looked over at the dress. Thoughts had raced through my young, naive head._

I suppose that is where my confidence came from, if not from learning over the years.

Shakily, I look back at the mirror and observe my face. My eyes aren't so red. Besides, it's dark outside so I won't be seen so easily. I slink out of my tent and straighten my robes. I must regain my footing in this world and stop my meddling feelings from interfering with it.

As I walk, I feel the heavy necklace. I grasp it and tighten my grip around it. This is a reminder of my future. I will now, whenever I begin to lose it, grab this trinket and remember. Remember that I am a Grey Warden.

_In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice._


	10. The Tower of Ishal

"You heard the plan. You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure that the beacon is lit."

The meeting that Duncan had requested I be apart of had ended moments ago, and we had regrouped with Alistair at the large bonfire. I refused to look Alistair in the eye, sparing it only for important moments, or if I needed to look at him directly.

"What?!" Alistair asks, shocked. "I won't be in the battle?"

I gave a half turn, nodding slowly to Alistair. "The king specifically requested that you and I light the beacon. As I am aware, the beacon will signal Teyrn Loghain's men to flank the darkspawn. We're more important than you think." I say to him and he gives me a look, something short of 'let me try and sweet-talk Duncan into letting me into the battle.'

"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" Alistair says, his characteristic sarcastic tone. Of course, it wasn't like the way he had spoken to the mage, but in a more polite sarcastic tone. Like one might speak to their parent.

"There's no point in whining about it. We have a job to do." I say in my most official tone. It hurts me to be sort of rude to Alistair, someone who has been so kind, but it must be done. I can't let my own foolish actions get in the way of more important things. I've slipped up one too many times in the past, all because I couldn't control my emotions.

"We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn...exciting or no." Duncan says, and I hold my head up high in confidence.

"I get it, I get it." Alistair says aloud, but then mumbles under this breath, " Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no." Oh, and there is the characteristic Alistair joke. While I try to keep eyes forward and my back straight, I can't help but slip up a little. My mouth twitches into a smile, so I hold my hand in front of my mouth to hide it.

"I don't know, that could be a pretty good distraction." I say, clearing my throat once or twice to hide the smile. Alistair notices it, whether or not because of the fact that I'm hiding a smile or that his words weren't meant to be heard.

"Me shimmying down the darkspawn line? Sure, we could kill them while they roll around laughing." Alistair gives a short chuckle and I can't help but let out a snort of laughter or two. Duncan sighs, making me want to laugh even harder.

"The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp, the way we came when we arrived.

"You need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley." Duncan finishes as a random clap of thunder sounds from above. It seems out the ordinary for the situation, so I look up and at the sky. A storm is brewing. Today was so lovely, though. The blue, cloudless sky seemed to have made way for a terrible storm. Perfect for a battle, as some may say.

"Sounds easy enough. When will we know to light the beacon?" I ask, just to clarify.

"We will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for."

"Are we...in any danger?" I suddenly ask, curiosity flaring.

Duncan nods, "Of course. Even the best laid plans go awry, so do what you must. I trust you both." I give a faint smile, my confidence soaring and rising high above the dark clouds that muster above.

"Just not enough to actually fight with the rest of you." Alistair says. Duncan chuckles in response. "There will be plenty of battles, Alistair. Be patient."

I ask a few more questions, like how much time we have or, for Alistair's sake, if we can join the battle afterward. I learn we have less than an hour to make it to the top floor of the tower of Ishal, and that we must stay with the guards, and only go if word is sent. I nod to all of these, but there is a nagging feeling in my gut. The dream after the Joining...showed the archdemon. That thing could not be of the past, because as I am aware, if the Joining occurs outside of a Blight, the dreams are of archdemons being slayed, not one staring at me straight in the eye. I had managed to smuggle this information out of Alistair before the battle and just before we met here.

"Duncan...what if the archdemon appears? The king doesn't believe this is a Blight...but now that I can...you know, sense the darkspawn...I feel it." I ask, and Duncan gives a simple nod.

"We soil our drawers, that's what." Alistair says, a short whisper beside me. I hear it and give a half smile.

"If it does, leave it to us. I want no heroics from either of you." Duncan looks both of us in the eye, and we give curt nods. An order is an order. I hope Alistair takes this information, because the last time that we fought something vicious and darkspawn-esque, he took all the killing blows to the monsters. While definitely heroic and heart-fluttering, Duncan said either of you for a reason. It wasn't like I was going to attack the beast. Hell, I've gone through the Harrowing and the Joining, but I doubt that an archdemon will sand in my hands...yet.

"I know what I have to do." I say.

"Then I must join the others. From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

I let Duncan's words sink in. Grey Warden. I am a Grey Warden. I can defeat darkspawn with my spell-power and not succumb to the taint and become whatever monstrosity is received after. I can do this.

"Duncan...may the Maker watch over you." Alistair suddenly says, and I nod, letting his words speak for me as well. I pray to the Maker that this battle will be successful. Hopefully He will watch over all of this and ensure we live to tell the tale.

"May He watch over us all."

And with that, Duncan turned and left Alistair and I. The fire raged in front of our eyes, the warmth heating my skin. Small sweat beads dribbled off the surface and I wiped them on the side of my robes. I turned to Alistair and gestured forward.

"You first." I say. Alistair shakes his head.

"No, no. Ladies first. I insist." He takes a back step behind me and I sigh. I holster my staff tightly to my back and straighten my heavy necklace so it isn't lopsided. I start forward, confidently heading toward the gorge, as Duncan instructed. Alistair was silent behind me, so I felt inclined to at least try to talk. Maybe. No, if he didn't want to - I wouldn't. No false hints or true hints. Just...friends. Friends and Grey Wardens. That was all.

As we made our way at a quickened pace to the bridge, the storm clouds from earlier brewed over our heads at a more deadly sort of speed. The night sky was lit up in a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Rain started to pour, lightly at first. My hair stuck to my face once we were at the beginning of the bridge. Archers rained arrows as fast as the rain falling toward the enemy below. Over the side of the bridge was the horde of darkspawn. They seemed to glow and be alive with their own fire. It was either that, or the fire from the arrows and catapults.

Speaking of such, in the distance I noticed a great ball of fire speeding toward the bridge. I counted my seconds and thought that if Alistair and I ran, we could make it to the edge of the blast zone. Maybe some fire scorched on our backs, but that would maybe be the most damage.

"Run! All the way till the next group of archers! Now!" I shouted at him, running forward as fast as I could. There was no response from behind me, a yes or a no, but just the quickened pace of feet. We made it to the second group of archers just as the flaming ball hit the stone. The archers were blasted off their feet and some scorched. Others were rolling around on fire. I felt a bit squeamish at the sight, but turned around quickly before I could lose my lunch.

We continued to run across the bridge, just as the heat of another catapult blasted right in front of us. The force of the impact and the heat almost blew me back, if it wasn't for Alistair's shield blocking me. He forced me to my knees and we were only pushed back a bit. I looked at him, my face flushing either from the heat or the sheer closeness. He cleared his throat and stood up suddenly. I bit my lip and brushed embers off of my robe. I clenched my fists at my sides and continued to run. We were at the other side of the bridge and up to the entryway of the tower when two guards came running at us.

"You...you're Grey Wardens, aren't you?! The tower...it's been taken!" The man was hysterical, a bit angry also.

"What are you talking about, man? Taken how?" Alistair asked from beside me.

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers! They're everywhere! Most of our men are dead!" The guard pressed his face into the heel of his hands. He gave a shake and then an angry glare. Not meant for anyone, but just of what I would assume was the events that just happened. We followed his eyes as he gazed up at the tower, going higher and higher until the top wasn't able to be seen from the clouds circling it.

Alistair snapped his head back to the guard. "Then we have to light the beacon ourselves." He decided, and I found the need not to say anything after or contradicting it. He was right in all the ways possible.

The guards ran with us up the stone ramp and past the leaning trees and crumbling architecture. We came face to face with darkspawn attacking other members of the guard. I slid out my staff as Alistair headed straight past me to the darkspawn. He had his sword in one hand, ready to slice, and his shield at his chest, half his head hidden behind it. The guards followed behind him, their shields and swords in similar places. I watched Alistair bash the first darkspawn he saw with his shield, detaching the terrible creature from a guard who was getting ripped to shreds.

I set myself at a distance able to cast spells and not be hurt. I used Winter's Grasp on a darkspawn that was going crazy with his daggers as he sliced and wounded a guard. The Genlock froze and the guard that was being attacked bashed it several times with the shield. The ice covering on the beast shattered, but not before the guard made the killing blow on the Genlock's head. I ripped my eyes from the beast and used a fireball, aimed at a small group of darkspawn heading at Alistair's back. The monsters were blasted away from him, just in time.

I heard footsteps behind me and whirled around just in time to see a Hurlock race at me with a blade high in the air. I side-stepped just as the dagger raced down on the spot where my heart was only a moment ago. I fired some Arcane bolts at the Hurlock as it swiped at me with its sword. I felt the blade slice through the fabric on my sleeves a couple times, but only a small amount of blood was drawn. I quickly finished it off and looked up in time to see a Genlock archer aiming an arrow at one of the guards. I used the Winter's Grasp again and froze the thing. It fell from the high perch and shattered on the ground like it was all ice, not just covered in it.

The small battle ended quickly and swiftly. Out of all the guards we had encountered by the bonfire, all were dead. One was just barely breathing as I passed it, and as I hesitated, the last breath came out subtly from his lips as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I bit my lip again and refused to look at any of the bodies. I suppose lesson one of being a Grey Warden is to get used to seeing dead bodies. No doubt would they be everywhere I looked.

There were several other groups of darkspawn that were waiting and killing off the Teyrn's guards. We dealt with them, only a few injuries resulting in the process. I had a bad cut across my shoulder. It ached and was extremely painful but a quick healing spell was enough to heal it. The rest weren't as badly wounded, mostly because of their armor, but I could see the blood splattered on their armor and faces.

Once the last group was dealt with, the great doors to the Tower of Ishal awaited us. I headed up first, and confidently pushed the doors open.


	11. Killed

A/N - I want to give a big thanks to FalconHawke who is a big supporter! I reccomend you read his stories as well, because they sure as hell are worth it. Just wanted to say that. Onward ho!

Ahead of us waited a lighted fire and the darkspawn. I knew because I could sense them. It was sort of like someone was tickling my nose, but with a heavy sword. On fire. The feeling wasn't as bad as it sounds, however. More or less irritating and easily noticed.

"There _are_ darkspawn in the tower. But...why?" I say, more or less outloud. This earns a shrug from Alistair who joins up beside me.

"I told you, didn't I?" The guard says from behind and I roll my eyes. We press forward, weapons drawn and in stealth mode. There is an intake of breath from behind. One of the guards has his eyes narrowed as he's looking around. Then he spots something. I manage to follow his eyes, but its difficult. They twitch and won't stop changing position. Even when they are fixed on something, his pupils shimmer and twitch. It's awfully annoying.

"A trap!" He hisses. "Up ahead! Watch yourselves." The guard edges forward and hides behind a pillar. He peeks over the side and disarms the trap with slippery fingers. He finishes in remarkable time. Rogues are no doubt reliable, I have to say. I have not had much of a background with rogues, my only other experience being Daveth.

We creep forward after the trap is disarmed and manage to take the darkspawn by surprise. There is a large assemblage of what looks like Hurlocks and some Genlocks. I can see them sharpening their knifes and cleaning the blood. Blood of fellow Fereldans and guards. I feel ice spike through my heart. I fling a fireball into their group. The blast blows them off their feet and they fly backward. All darkspawn eyes fly to me and I narrow my eyes as the guards and Alistair charge.

With much blood and carnage being thrown around, the group is finished off. I do a quick heal to the whole group, just in case anyone had gotten seriously or almost seriously injured. We head forward again, running into many and many groups of darkspawn.

At one point, there is a long hallway on the second or third floor. It splits into two sections ,and the darkspawn come raining in from one end. This group's numbers are too large...the others may be overwhelmed by them.

My eyes fly around the room, looking for either a distraction or something big to hit them with. They fall on a ballista with several bolts waiting to be shot. I run over there, almost tripping over my robe, and bend down near the butt of the weapon. I haul a bolt in and draw the ballista back. I wait, just until the darkspawn are at their massive grouping and not so close to Alistair or the guards. Just then, I have a split second, and I launch the bolt.

The bolt flies through the air and hits the group right in the middle. Most of them fly back from the impact, some already dead. I give a silent dance and fire another bolt at the group that is getting back up. I see that the guards are looking around, wild eyed, and looking for who is shooting the ballista. I guess they can't see me from behind it. With my free hand I give a faint wave just as I fire another bolt.

The darkspawn are all but dead, and we quickly finish them off. Alistair claps me on the back.

"Nice thinking back there," He says. "We could of all been darkspawn lunch. Or worse, dinner." I smile proudly at him.

"Means a thousand from you. If that doesn't sound strange, at all. I mean, well nevermind." I give a dull laugh and quickly turn on my hell and follow the guards as they head to the stairs leading up to the top floor. Some Genlock rogues are waiting for us, but they aren't that much trouble. One of them slices me up pretty good on the arm, and its numb by the time they're all dead.

I raise my hand, glowing with a white and blue shimmer, and press it to my arm. There is an ounce of pain, maybe even less. Then, there is nothing left but the ripped fabric. I'll have to buy some new robes once this is over.

"We have to hurry; we have most likely missed the signal. Loghain better be ready." Alistair murmured the last bit and I gave a short nod. We ran up the stairs, hearts pounding and hair flying. Well, I was the only one with the longest hair, but barely even long at that. Either way, we were slightly worried and like Alistair said, hoping that Loghain would be ready to charge.

Through the doors we crash when the waft of dead, burning bodies drifts into our noses. I gag for only a moment. We halt just in time to feel the ground rumbling beneath us and a dull roar coming from the beast that stood in front of us. There was a haunch of guard in his mouth and he ripped from it, uttering another roar.

"Maker be with us! It's an ogre!" I shout, my breath hitching in my throat. While I've seen darkspawn, I don't think I've ever seen an ogre before. The books in the Circle Tower provided me with only illustrated version of these beasts. They were nothing like the ink and parchment versions I was used to.

"We must get rid of it fast! Anymore delay and something may go extremely wrong down there!" Alistair shouts over me and I nod. The thunder and lightning are raging outside, blocking most words. There are also the rising screams and shouts of the battle down below. I gulp and find a place a distance from the ogre. The guards and Alistair attack it head on.

I raise my staff and slam it down on the ground, the staff lighting with an eerie blue light. I use Winter's Grasp on the ogre and it freezes, giving some time for the three to attack it with everything they have. The ogre breaks out of its ice prison and reaches for one of the guards. It snatches the man up in its big, bloody palm and squeezes and shakes the guard until he's nothing but a pulp. I'm horrified, but I'm on auto. I can only shoot my spells at the beast.

Alistair races to the backside of the ogre and slices his sword on the ogre's calves. It roars in pain and kicks backward, flinging Alistair against the wall. I bite my fist to keep from screaming. He seems to be alright, only a bit shaken up. I send a healing spell is way, no matter.

The last guard plunges his sword into the ogre's gut and the thing shouts, swiping the ground. It misses the guard by only a meter, but manages to pull the sword from its abdomen. The ogre throws the sword at a wall and it sticks into the stone. The guard grabs another from his back and continues to hack and slash, trying to get the beast down on its knees.

Alistair bashes the ogre with his shield and the thing staggers a bit, enough time for him to leap into the air and drive his sword deep into the ogre's chest. The thing roars and snatches Alistair up like he did the guard. While the ogre is shouting and bleeding profusely, it shakes and squishes Alistair.

My heart feels like it's been stabbed and cut up. I can't let Alistair die like the guard. My mana feels low, and I feel out of breath. But I must use what I can to save him.

"ALISTAIR!" I shriek and use Winter's Grasp, my trust spell, for a second time on the beast. It freezes and drops Alistair just as it turns to ice. He looks beat up, but not too badly injured. Blood seeps onto his armor and has splattered onto his face. My heart aches, but I know that at least he is alive.

Finally, Alistair makes for another jumping attack and manages to drive his sword deep into the ogre's heart. The thing shouts and staggers back. Alistair rips the sword out and slices at the beast's neck, blood flying everywhere. For once, I'm glad I'm not beside Alistair. With a final warcry, Alistair falls with the ogre to the ground and digs his sword firmly into its heart for one last time. The ogre goes still and is finally silent. Alistair takes his sword out and steps off of the body.

I want to run up to him and hug him, keep him close and safe, or anything of the kind, but I know I can't. I'm supposed to be restraining myself, but doing a terrible job at it.

"Light the beacon, quickly!" Alistair says to me and I nod, using a quick flame spell to light the kindling. It erupts into fire. Our job is done.

The guard applauds us as I fire out a healing spell, healing all wounds and rejuvinating everyone as best as I can. I race to the window and use my staff to break the already broken glass. I lean over the small railing in front of the window and peer out onto the battle below.

But something is wrong. No, the battle doesn't look right. The darkspawn are overwhelming the warriors...Where is Loghain's men?

"Oh, Maker, _no_!" I whisper. Loghain's men are gone. They must of left the field, abandoned it or anything! If they are gone, then the darkspawn must be killing every single person down there. Even Duncan...and King Cailan. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. "Loghain you bastard! Where are you!?" I scream this and pound my fists down in anger.

"Fiona...what's wrong?" Alistair asks, but just then, I sense the darkspawn. Alistair notices this too, and before we can react, the top floor begins to fill with darkspawn. They pool in. Where did they come from!?

Alistair and the guard do the best they can to lower the numbers, but it is too much. Alistair disappears in the swarming group of darkspawn. I shout his name again and again, using several spells to try and clear the group. It fails. My mana feels low and I feel worse than earlier. I paw my satchel for a lyrium potion, but I can't find one.

The first darkspawn hits me, a sword sailing into my arm. Arrows fly through me and I feel the blood bubbling out of my mouth. Pain radiates in waves from every wound. I try to heal, but I have no energy. I hit the ground and look up to see the ugly, deformed heads standing over me. It's the end.

To think that I really imagined something happening to me. Being a Grey Warden and making it through this battle; living my life and settling down, maybe one day; living out of the Circle. Maybe Alistair and I could of had a relationship, if I gave it some time. Something to live for, that must be what it's called. I was just out of the Circle, after so many years there. When I get my first taste of freedom, I'm killed.

I'm sorry Mama.

I'm sorry Papa.

I'm sorry Aislin...Addis.

I'm sorry Duncan.

I'm sorry Ferelden.

_I'm sorry Alistair._


	12. Awkward Flirting and a Morrigan

The first thing that raced through my mind was Alistair. As desperate as it seems, he really was the first thing that came to my mind. The strawberry-blonde hair on his head styled in that oh-so fashionable way, and his eyes that were always sparkling with enjoyment. Unless he was serious, of course. Then there was that dark, foreboding look that sent shivers up my spine.

Ugh, I'm terrible.

The second thing that came to mind was what happened in the tower. The darkspawn were overwhelming us and had already taken down Alistair and the guard. I was the last one down after swords and arrows running through my and poking holes like I was some sort of exotic cheese. I had apologized to everyone and everything I loved. Then everything had faded away. It was all black and I couldn't move. I had tried to speak, to talk, but no words could come out. I thought it was all over, but then there had been that bright light. It enveloped my vision and took the painful, darkness away. It tugged on my hands and feet, dragging me toward it. I had let the warmth seep into my skin and soak in, a wonderful contrast to the stark cold of the storm that night. It was wonderful.

The third thing that came to mind was how I was alive.

I had died, I felt it. But the light had brought me back. Was that the Maker, showing himself and telling me that I wasn't destined to die? That I had a mission? Or was it fate, showing the same ambitions of the Maker?

Either way, I was glad.

My eyes snapped open and I jerked upward, my breath coming out in uneven, jagged sounds. It hurt terribly to breathe, or even move. Bandages ran along my chest and were tucked neatly on my back - I could feel the knot. There were also bandages on my stomach, neck, arms and legs. I was in my underwear, and just nearly stark naked. While I wouldn't be embarrassed if I was in my underwear by myself, there was someone standing behind me, I could sense their presence. It wasn't a darkspawn, I knew that much. It had to be something human.

"W-Who is there?" A voice says, a raspy one at that. I take only a moment to realize that it's _my_ voice. "What happened to my voice?!" I try to shout but it is mostly a whisper.

"I would suggest you don't move around too much. Half of the bandages on you are for show. The other ones are there for a reason. Anyway, you seem to be awake. How do you fare?" The person walks from behind the bed to the front of it, and I get a better look. The voice was familiar, and I see why now. It's that girl from when we had gone to the Wilds...Morrigan was her name.

"I'm alright, I suppose. Terribly sore. What happened?" I ask, rubbing my neck and wishing that I could do something to heal it. When and if Morrigan disappears, I might try to do something.

"You mean you don't remember?" She asks. "Not even Mother's rescue?"

"No, I-I barely remember anything. I only remember being overwhelmed by the darkspawn and then dying. But clearly I'm not dead. " I give a half laugh, but Morrigan doesn't seem amused. I clear my throat, earning a sharp pain in the center of my throat. "Er, anyway, your mother saved me?"

Morrigan nods. "But it is no surprise you do not remember. You were very nearly dead, or so she says. All cut up like a pretty little bird after a battle with a fierce hound. In case you were wondering, your wounds were very fatal. However, darkspawn magic pales to Mother's power. You both healed surprisingly fast."

My breath hitches. "B-Both? You mean, I'm not the only one?"

Morrigan scoffs. "Of cours- Ah, but your memory fails you, doesn't it? Mother managed to save you and the incredibly daft one from the tower. She turned into a giant bird, ripped the roof off the tower and plucked both of you up."

I slow my heart-rate. Alistair is alive. A ghost of a smile flashes across my face before the realization hits me for a second time. I ask Morrigan what happened with the battle against the darkspawn.

"It appeared that the man who was supposed to respond to the signal quit the field. There is nothing but carnage down there. The Darkspawn won the battle." I hold back tears. While I had no person relations with anyone, besides Duncan, I still grieved for all the lost soldiers. If what Morrigan said is true, then that means the King is dead.

"Does that mean King Cailan is dead?" I ask, and Morrigan simply shrugs.

"Tis a chance. But I doubt your king would have survived this, unless like yourselves, he was plucked from the battle." I sigh and slump back down onto the bed.

"How long has it been?" I suddenly ask, curiosity spiking.

"Oh, maybe three or four days."

"_Three or Four_!?" I hiss in shock. Has it already been that long since the battle? It feels only like a nightfall. I must really have been injured.

"Yes, but don't jump out of bed so fast. While Mother's magic has done much, there is still much healing left to be done in your body. It would be best that you wait a few more days. I will return in a moment, for Mother had me only come in to check on you. If you want anymore questions asked, you must wait." Morrigan says and quickly turns to leave.

"Morrigan!" I call out, even if my voice sounds only over a whisper. She freezes and turns, slowly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." I give a small smile and she gives a look of bewilderment.

"Oh, er...you are welcome." She quickly ducks out of the room and all is silent. I lay back down and rest on the bed, my bones seeming a thousand pounds. I turn my head to look at the fire, crackling with liveliness. I raise my hand slowly, and stretch out my fingers. I focus on the fire and on my fingers, and a small fire cracks between the creases between my fingers. Then my whole hand erupts into fire. I watch it only for a moment, but then extinguish it. While it seemed meaningless, setting my hand on fire, it had some sort of purpose. I want to see if I was well enough to still do my magic, and maybe heal myself at a quicker rate. Now, I know I can.

I adjust myself on the bed and raise both of my hands, a blue and white shimmer releasing from my finger tips. I start with my neck and place both hands over my neck, letting the magic work into my blood and skin. I was never that skilled in healing, so this was only to be used part of the time.

* * *

Morrigan returns after a while with a handful of herbs and vegetables in her arms. She sets them down on a small table and begins to add them to the big pot I hadn't noticed within the fire.

"Morrigan?" I ask her name, my voice sounding much better than before. She doesn't shift or change her pattern as she slips the ingredients into the pot.

"More questions, I assume?"

"Er, yes. Where is Alistair? This hut doesn't seem very large...as if this is the only room in it." I look around again, noting how small and tightly compacted together most things are. The bed is one of the larger things.

"Not everything is what it seems. Surely a mage like yourself should know that." She says, slipping a sweet smelling root into the pot.

"You know that I'm a mage?!" I'm shocked, only because most people seem dumb to the obvious appearance of robes and a staff strapped to my back. Morrigan chuckles.

"But of course! Unlike most, my eyes are upon my face for a reason. Do others not know this?" She asks me. I start to speak, but she stops me. "By others, I mean Alistair."

I give a small laugh and can only shrug. While she can't see me, she seems to notice I made some sort of gesture. "The first time, yes. He doesn't seem so afraid of me turning him into a toad, as much as he is of you. You don't turn people into toads, do you?" Morrigan is silent once more.

"Morrigan!"

"Yes?"

"I said, you don't turn people into toads, do you?"

"Oh, I am very sorry. I could not hear you over the bubbling of the stew." Morrigan is silent again. I can't tell if she is trying to joke, or being serious. I doubt she turns people into toads, though. It just doesn't seem ethical. I smile, anyway.

"Right. Do you think I can see Alistair?" I ask, tapping my fingers on the bed. Morrigan seems to stiffen, but relaxes.

"Of course. But he is moping in the room we have given him. He doesn't speak to Mother, nor I. You can try, if you feel well enough to lift a finger for him."

Morrigan stirs the stew and turns to face me. "If you were wondering, there are some clothes in that chest there. Your original robes were nearly torn to shreds, so it was necessarily that you have better clothes. Lest you prefer to wander Ferelden naked." I nod to her and slowly get up, the wounds flaring up with pain. I wince, but don't lay back down. I have to see Alistair. He has just been on my mind for far too long, and I need to indulge before I grow mad.  
I approach the chest and bend down, grabbing my lower back as I bend. I flip the lid and find some robes that are actually very nice looking. I dress in the corner. Once I am dressed, I feel the fabric and how soft it is...Orlesian silk. Mama used to have several dresses in her wardrobe made of Orlesian silk...she said it was something to remind her of home.

"This is Orlesian silk. Where did you get it from?" I ask Morrigan. She turns her head to look at me.

"Tis most likely from a...visitor. There are no doubts in my mind that Mother had something to do with the extra robes. You can very well ask her, if you feel so bold as to." Morrigan says and then turns to continue making food. I look around, trying to find a door or a staircase or something. I feel the walls, letting the wood slip past my fingers as I feel for something. A latch or a crease. Anything!

Finally, something catches on my fingers, and I see that there isn't a wall at all. Instead, there is a doorway, and a wall behind it painted the exact same color. It seems to give the illusion that there is one wall, when there isn't at all. Very clever.

I turn the corner and find that there is a steep set of stairs that must lead up to the higher part of the hut. I had always wondered about that part. The stairs go up and lead to a small room with a door on the other side of it. The small room is equipped with several discarded items and objects I'd rather not look at. By the dust and decay that wafts in and out of my nostrils, I can only assume that these things have been here for a long time, and long since been cleaned or anything. I wrinkle my nose and approach the door. Lifting my knuckles, I rapped the door lightly. "Alistair?" I call through the wood.

"Is that you Morrigan? I'm telling you, if you come in here and say something mean again, I'm going to have a fit. And it won't be pretty. I'm going to be all masculinity and muscles, but you'll feel sorry. Somehow." I giggle a bit.

"No, No. It's me - Fiona!" There is a beat before Alistair responds.

"Fiona? Oh, thank the Maker you're alive! Morrigan wouldn't tell me who else survived. I think it was just to annoy me." There is a pounding sound and then the door flies open. There stands Alistair as I know him, alive but bruised. I feel the need to run into his arms and hug him, but I don't. Instead I simply shrug my shoulders.

"She told me as soon as I awoke. Can you believe it: four days? I-I didn't think either of us would survive." I say slowly and Alistair moves out of the way so I can come into the room. It is much like the one down the stairs but without a Morrigan stirring a stew or such a large fire. I sit on the bed and lace my hands together, fear knotting in my stomach.

"I didn't either." He takes a seat beside me. "I thought it was the end. But, it seems we're alive, aren't we. But Duncan, the king...everyone..." Alistair trails off, looking down and very somber. Sadness clings to his face, making it seem paler and thinner. I sigh and clutch the robes tighter.

"I'm so sorry Alistair. But if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, then we wouldn't be here - alive." I say my words but then regret them instantly. Alistair looks at me, a bit of anger in is eyes.

"I'd rather have died with them and died courageously."

I look down and he does too. "You don't mean that, do you? You'd rather be dead, then alive? That's horrible, Alistair."

"It's not horrible. Duncan was like a father to me and the Grey Wardens like siblings. Wouldn't you want to die with your family?" He asks me, and that strikes a nerve. I think back to the cold, still bodies of my Mama and my siblings. How they were cut up, more or less like Morrigan described, 'like a pretty little bird after a battle with a fierce hound'. I blink back the tears and turn away, playing with the aged frays on the dress.

"Yes, I wanted to die with my family. I-I suppose I know what you're saying. I can understand," I bite my tongue to hide the tears. Before Alistair can say anything, I snap my head up to look at him. "But the fact that I didn't die with them gives me a sense of...of wanting to go on. I know now that if I had died with them, I wouldn't be here, right now. Or even a Grey Warden. Or with you. So me being the last Amell of my family makes me want to go on. Being one of the last Grey Wardens makes me want to go on. Don't you?" I don't know whose words these are that are coming out of my mouth. I have never really said anything this intelligent or this meaningful. The whole situation must be playing a part.

Alistair's face softens and he sighs. "You're right. I shouldn't be moping, I'm sorry. While Duncan was close to me, him being dead does make me want to go on."

My shoulders slump forward as we are left in an awkward silence. I want to speak, but I don't know what to say. I'm afraid I'll mess up, or say some more wise words and make an even bigger fool of myself. Not that being wise is foolish, but coming out of my mouth, I wouldn't be surprised. I watch Alistair's fist tighten and go lax several times.

"We must avenge their deaths." He suddenly says, making me jump. I look over to him.

"How do you propose we do that?" I ask him, every bit curious. For once, I actually don't restrain Curious Fiona as she stumbles out of the deep, dark cave and into the light. She sits comfortably and listens to Alistair.

"I'm not so sure right now...everything is still a bit wobbly in my head, after what happened at Ostagar. Almost a week later and I'm still not healthy. How about you?" He asks me. I shrug, lifting up a sleeve and exposing the neatly wrapped bandages. Some blood leaks onto the white fabric.

"Everything else is slow. But I've been healing myself, starting from my neck. I could barely talk earlier, but now I'm perfectly fine." Alistair peers at my neck, coming very close. I can feel his hot breath against my jaw, and it runs up my neck and sends shivers down my spine. He looks at the bandages around my neck before pulling back suddenly.

"Amazing. I guess I shouldn't underestimate a mage's power. You'd probably turn me into a toad. Morrigan probably would too. I think you're all against me." He smiles a bit and I smile too. I brush my hand through my hair, stretching out some knots.

"Oh, you know I wouldn't turn you into a toad. You're too pretty to be a toad."

"Pretty? I'm just pretty?"He gives a sly smirk and I feel my face instantly flame up and run from both cheeks and across my nose. I feel some of the warmth leak onto my forehead as well. But I'm on a roll.

"Yes, very pretty But your handsome as well - er, if that doesn't sound weird. Well it probably does... Ugh, you know what I mean." I playfully shove him in the arm, but it's like trying to shove a wall. Alistair laughs and I join him. Everything seems alright. But it takes only one second of thinking to remember that every Grey Warden in Ferelden is dead aside from us; that there is a Blight in Ferelden, and it's spreading; that the King of Ferelden is dead.

But for just this time, I will myself to forget it all. We've got to heal, anyway. We can't save Ferelden with a thorn in our thumbs, now can we?


	13. Fiona Amell's Childhood Horror

As Morrigan had requested, Alistair and I stayed at the safe and secluded hut for a few more days. I could tell that Alistair and Morrigan didn't really like each other, seeing as every second I left them alone, they were almost at each other's throats. It was amusing, but sometimes I definitely had to intervene before Alistair reached for the hilt of his sword. The gentle creature he was, I doubt he would really attack her. I wouldn't be surprised if worse came to worse and something happened.

As for the rest of the time, Alistair and I constantly trained as much as we could. I could tell that it would be better for him to train with another warrior. A simple mage as myself would no doubt be pummeled by his blade at an extremely quick pace. The warrior he is would be pulverized by my magic.

So, instead, I managed to whip up some of my magic and conjure a dummy for him to train with. The dummy wasn't living or breathing, and made mostly out of straw and rocks found around the hut. It worked surprisingly well for him, and wasn't hard to create either, so there were plenty for him to regain his strength with. One afternoon he stopped whacking the dummy and turned to face me. I looked over in surprise, seeing as most of the time he never really spoke to me unless he was devilishly tired and out of breath.

"Fiona?" He asked me. I crossed my arms and nodded, encouraging him on.

"Yes?"

"I have a question, if you don't mind me asking one." He speaks as he slides his sword into its sheath.

"I don't have a problem with that. Ask away." I smile at him and he scratches the back of his head.

"I really don't want to probe, or get into your business. But I've been thinking about it for a while, and it's been bothering me-"

"Alistair, just get on with the question!"

"Alright, alright...What happened to your family? I remember a few days ago you said that you 'wanted to die with your family'...so I'm assuming that means they're already dead, correct me if I'm wrong," He looks down at me. I'm only a few inches short than he, but suddenly I feel so close to the ground. I flash back to the dreams, one of which had happened just the night before. It was like the others, but instead of finding my family the way they were, I had watched them being tortured and murdered before my eyes. It was horrible and I had awoke in a cold sweat, whimpering and keeping it quiet. All of the dreams eventually tied back to the archdemon, who would often make an appearance. It was driving me crazy. I'm silent for a moment, trying to think of a response. "But you don't have to answer. I'm only being curious."

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm curious as well, so it isn't a bother. As for my family...I don't know if I really can say anything. It hurts too much...it's still so fresh, like Ostagar. But...you're my friend, you know that? A-and you deserve to know. But you have to promise to tell me a little about _your_ past as well." I give a small smirk at him, and Alistair groans. He, like myself, takes a moment before deciding.

"Oh, fine. It's only fair." He says and I smile. I tell him that it would be better to tell the story inside the house, rather than outside. Even though Morrigan tells us that her mother's spells protect the hut from darkspawn, I still feel overly paranoid, and that bothers me. I don't want to be paranoid, because I very much hate paranoia to the bottom of my heart.

We enter the hut and take a seat by the roaring fire. One of Morrigan's stews is brewing and bubbling in the pot. I tell Alistair to take a seat, as if I'm an elder waiting to tell the story to the little children. An elven mage I had met at the Circle told of her clan and how they would gather around to hear stories from the storyteller. I was fascinated, only because I was blind to the elven societies. I only heard about it from other mages.

I sit on the bed next to Alistair and dry my sweaty palms on the dress.

"T-This isn't easy. I haven't told anyone about this since...since it happened. And I've had dreams as well. They've become worse since I've left the Circle. Even worse since the Joining." Alistair doesn't speak, but nods as if understanding. I smile briefly at him before looking down at my dress again.

"Alright. Here...here we go I suppose.

"My family and I lived on a small farm in Highever, more closer to the coast than anywhere else. We had a happy sort of life. Mama helped with Papa on the fields as we made most of our keep from growing and selling our crops. I had two siblings, twins named Aislin and Addis. They were older than me and terribly pretty as well. We all looked alike. Mama had said that the Amells were once a noble family, but something happened and the class and status disappeared. The Amells had no magic blood within them, until something happened with, with her. It started a chain reaction, but that's another story for another time. Myself and a two distant cousins were the sins to the family tree. We had magic.

"This proved to be just as the Chantry claims. My magic was both a gift and a sin. I would help when the crops failed or when an animal became sick, but I also had to hide from the templars if they ever came to town."

"You were an apostate?" Alistair asks once I break for a breath. I nod, but then remember that he was an ex-templar, which makes the moment almost as awkward as when he was forced to take a message to that mage in Ostagar. I clear my throat and continue.

"But I wasn't an apostate for long, so you needn't make a fuss out of it," I smile to prove that I'm not so serious. "Anyway, one day, I had been playing hide and seek with my older siblings. I was hiding in the field for a while, and even got a bit sleepy and fell asleep there. The hours passed, and when I awoke, it felt like half the day had already passed. Not only had no one found me, but I was all alone. There wasn't a sound from the farm or the house. I was scared, and only nine years old. I ran through the field and back to the farm, calling for my family. They never answered. When I opened the door to the farmhouse, I was relieved to see my Mama sitting on her rocking chair with my older siblings laying by the fire.

"I approached Mama and ran into her dress, still very afraid and sad. But then I looked at her, noticing how cold and unresponsive she was, and saw the horror. My Mama was...dead," I choked out the words, remembering every little detail from the dream. "I went to Aislin and Addis...but they were dead too. All of them were beaten to death, attacked. Murdered. The only person I didn't find was Papa...and I still don't know. Addis had a knife in him, and I had taken it out. I was so full of emotion that I held the knife to me and lied down on the floor. I was crying and shivering and so sad... but then people came.

"They came through the door and saw me covered in blood and clutching a knife. They assumed the worst, as most of them knew that I was a mage. At first, they decided that they might as well kill me right then and there, because they thought I was an abomination-"

"They wanted to kill you!?" Alistair gasps and I nod slowly.

"People will do the needed to keep magic out of the wrong hands. They assumed my hands were wrong and wanted to get rid of me before I could do more harm. But, before they could get any closer, a woman pushed her way through the group and ran to my side. She picked me up and carried me out of there. I didn't know who she was, but I knew that she was friendly. Her name was Élise, and she was from Orlais. She told me that she was a friend of Mama's, and had decided to make a surprise visit. When she came upon the crowd at the house, she assumed something was wrong. She said that when she saw me with my long hair in my eyes and the tears streaking my face, she couldn't stand there. Élise was Mama's friend, and knew about me and my abilities.

"Élise took me to the Chantry. She said that she didn't want me to be a menace to society, nor let society be a menace to me. I was angry and sad, but I didn't refuse. So then I was at the Chantry, at the Circle...and then now." I finished quickly, knitting my hands together and clasping them at my waist. The memories were harsh and fresh now...but I felt glad for telling someone about it. I would mention my dreams...but those were too close to me and would open old wounds.

Alistair nodded a few times, taking in what I had just told him. It was a long story, no doubt. After moments of silence, he finally spoke.

"Wow. I didn't know you had...had such a rough life. I'm so sorry Fiona." I shook my head at him.

"You don't need to be sorry. But the one thing that bothers me is that I don't know who killed my family, or where my Papa is. Whenever I relive the moment that I find their bodies, I can't find the killer or Papa. It is so...annoying. I just want to _know_." I sigh and hug myself, not knowing what to do. Alistair gives me a look of sympathy.

"Maybe one day we can find out." He smiles at me and puts a hand on top of my own. My heart is beating wildly at my chest and my face is no doubt red as a rose. I drop my eyes and give a small smile. For once, I can be next to Alistair without making a stupid move or doing something idiotic. Maybe the brush with death sort of turned me right. It's either that, or I have genuine feelings for this man - this Grey Warden. We're both Grey Wardens. We will end the Blight and live happily together.

"So, I believe it's your turn." I smirk at him and Alistair gives a silent look. He utters a small laugh and looks away.

"Oh, I don't think you want to hear _my _story. It's boring and there's nothing interesting."

"Well, I don't care. I want to hear about you. I told you all about me, every little detail. I deserve some respect in return." Alistair quickly shakes his head and holds up his hands defensively.

"Ah, no, I didn't mean to disrespect you, I swear-"

"It's fine." I smile at him, proving that there is no tension between us. He exhales deeply and scratches the side of his chin, where stubble is growing.

"Good. I don't want you thinking that. So, my story, yes?" I nod and he sighs. "Well, here we go then. I wa-"

Alistair was interrupted by Morrigan bursting in through the door and tending to her stew before looking over at us. She notices how close Alistair and I, which was something not even _I_ knew, and simply scoffs. Morrigan laces her arms through each other and glares down at both of us. I can tell she disapproves of me being next to the 'idiot', or so she calls him. They really don't like each other, which is considerably strange. There isn't a word exchanged between the two that isn't filled with either venom or sarcasm.

"Oh, do not mind me, for I only play the messenger. Mother wishes to speak to the both of you, immediately. I suggest you go out there now, so that I do not have to go back and forth as if I am some courier." Morrigan hisses these words, earning a glare from Alistair.

"You know, you could have just said that your mother wishes to see us." He says, and I prepare to break the fight, if the need arises.

Morrigan scoffs, a devilish smirk on her face. "Oh yes, I could..." Morrigan leaves her words at that, and turns on her heel and back out the door. I see Alistair clench his jaw, his eyes narrowed and calculated. I lay a hand on his shoulder, trying to relax him.

"She's just trying to toy with you, you know that, right?" I ask him and he hesitates ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I'm sure she is." He mutters, a dark look casting over his eyes.

* * *

Alistair and I exit the hut after I gave him a bit of a cool down from the tempered exchange between himself and Morrigan.

Speaking of so, Morrigan was nowhere to be seen. I considered this as we went out to meet her mother, who was standing by the bog. She was an old woman, hardly frail but menacing nonetheless. Her white hair was untidy and messy, dragging out the lines and wrinkles in her face. The one thing that distinguished her from the average elderly woman was the bright, yellow eyes. Like Morrigan, they had a harsh, foreboding look in their eyes. Many emotions could be shielded with eyes like those.

Morrigan's mother turns slightly, hearing us coming. We stop in front of the old woman who analyzes the both of us.

"Ah, yes, I see that you both healed miraculously. Quite lucky, seeing as how close to death you were," She says this before looking over at me. "And how do you fare, mage?" I'm taken off guard by the sudden attention to myself. I was waiting for vague terms and the general phrases about both Alistair and I. Nothing about just me.

"O-Oh I'm feeling well. Thank you, very much." I give a slight curtsy, or whatever I could manage in the constricting dress. Morrigan's mother raises a brow at me.

"You curtsy? Ha! I hardly deserve that kind of respect. I'm no noble or knight. You may stand, girl." I quickly straighten up, earning another chuckle from Morrigan's mother. Alistair flashes a look at me.

"Yes, if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we would be dead on that tower." Alistair says to me, a sudden somber look crossing his face when he mentions Ostagar. I want to console him, as I did before, but Morrigan's mother beats my words.

"Do not speak of me as if I am not present, lad." She says, neither insulted or rude. Alistair immediately looks in her direction, his brows furrowed together..

"I-I didn't mean...but what do we call you? You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty but hold no value. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. It seems sufficient." I gasp when Flemeth speaks. There is only one Flemeth that I know of, and that is the Flemeth of legends. The Witch of the Wilds, more or less what Morrigan had called herself. But to know that her mother is Flemeth...oh, it makes so much sense. Mama used to tell me the story of Flemeth, seeing as she knew many minstrels in her younger days who would share the tale with her in attempts to swoon her. The story seemed to stick like clay, and she would be able to remember it in verbatim.

"_The_ Flemeth?" Alistair is as surprised as myself. "But then that means you are the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?"

"And of what importance is that? I know magic greater than that of your Circle mage, and still magic in the end. It has served both of you greatly, no?" I nod feverishly. I'm almost too stunned to speak. It is the most strangest moment to meet the so-called living embodiment of the stories that I had been told. The stories always enthralled me, but meeting Flemeth is far more than those words.

"Why would the Flemeth of Chasind legends save us from the tower?" I ask, suddenly thinking about the question. It makes sense, in the greater scheme of things. Why would a powerful woman who lives in a safe haven save two soldiers as ourselves?

"Your question ties coincidentally to the original reason I called both of you out. Someone has to stop the Blight, and it can't be anyone but a Grey Warden. So, what do you two have planned for the inevitable future?" Flemeth asks us and I look over at Alistair, who simply shrugs.

"We haven't discussed much of it, I'm afraid. B-But the first thing we need to do is go to Arl Eamon."

"Arl Eamon? The Arl of Redcliffe?" I ask Alistair and he nods.

"Yes, the Arl is a genuine man, I know him. He wasn't at Ostagar, and wouldn't stand for what Loghain did. The Landsmeet wouldn't stand for it. There would be civil war!" Alistair begins to speak words, saying random things as he attempts to find up a plan. My mind drifts to Ostagar for the umpteenth time, the horror of it flashing before my eyes. I remember Duncan, and then the Joining. The trip into the Wilds to get the three vials of blood and treaties...

I almost choke on the air that I'm breathing when reality slams into me like a stone wall. The treaties!

"Alistair! The treaties! The Warden treaties Duncan had us collect. We still have those, I'm pretty sure." My eyes sparkle as I think of the possibilities. I had read a bit of the treaties while we were healing in the hut for something to do. Just the other day had I noted that the treaties entitled to the Dwarves of Orzhammar, the Dalish elves, and the Circle of Magi to comply and aid the Wardens when needed.

Alistair gives a wide grin. "Yes! The treaties! You've read them, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you know that the treaties require that the Dwarves, the Dalish and the Mages to help the Wardens when they need it. Yes! Oh, you're brilliant, Fiona!" Alistair smiles at me and I feel my heart race and flutter all at the same time, like a bird with an injured wing that is flying. My face warms and I turn my attention back to Flemeth.

"We can use the treaties to aim at the Blight, and save the Arl for Loghain. We can do this, right?" I ask and Alistair seems extremely excited beside me.

Flemeth scoffs. "I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages and this Arl Eamon and who knows what else...this sounds like an army."

"Why not? Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" I smile.

"Well, it seems that both of you know what's coming for you. It won't be easy, I must say. So, I offer last needed help. Take it as you wish." Flemeth says, and I'm about to ask her what she means when Morrigan comes from the hut. She smells of roots and vegetables, like usual. Her yellow eyes flicker over me and Alistair. When they hit Alistair, her eyebrows raise. I peek over at Alistair in the corner of my eye and see him tense up.

"Mother dear, the stew is bubbling. Shall these Wardens be joining us for another eve, or are they packed and ready to leave?" She seems particularly happy at those last words.

"The Wardens are leaving and you are going with them." Flemeth says. I almost choke on my air again.

"Such a shame-what?!"

"You heard me girl. Last I checked, you had ears." Flemeth laughs and crosses her arms as she looks over her daughter. Morrigan raises her hands and waves them, shaking her head.

"Mother...this isn't how I wanted it!" Morrigan attempts to fight back, with her words, but Flemeth seems to be winning.

"You did not want to leave the forest? As I recall, you've been weaving in and out of these woods for years now, wanting to leave. Here is your chance. Take her, Wardens, as repayment for your lives." Flemeth gestures to the two of us. I decide to stand up a bit, both for Morrigan and Flemeth's sake.

"Thank you, but if Morrigan doesn't wish to join us..." I trail off and Flemeth eyes me with her yellow eyes.

"You need her magic. While I have no doubts that your magic is proficient, hers will help you in the oncoming future. She's also as cunning as a root lizard." Flemeth says, and I find that there is nothing else to say, other than agree. I tell Flemeth that Morrigan's welcome on the team, to which Morrigan exhales bitterly.

"Fine. Allow me to grab my things, if you please." Morrigan disappears into the hut and I hear Alistair at unrest behind me. He is moving around a bit and making small sounds. I turn to face him.

"Something bothering you?" I ask.

"It's just...not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, but won't having her add to our problems? No doubt Loghain has put a bounty on our head, and outside of the Wilds Morrigan's an apostate." Alistair says and earns a raised brow from Flemeth, who seems to have over-heard him.

"If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower." Flemeth doesn't seem to add any sort of sign that she is angry, or anything in her words, but I can just feel it radiating off of her mouth.

"Point taken." Alistair says and I smirk a bit.

There is a moment of silence before Morrigan comes bustling out of the hut, a small pack slung over her shoulder. She seems without emotion, and I credit her for being good at such a thing. I'd kill for that kind of ability.

"Well, this is not how I wanted it to go. _I'm not even ready_..." I barely hear her whisper the last part. Flemeth seems to have the ears of a bat, or some other hearing-enhanced animal.

"Surely you are ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the Archdemon." Flemeth says, earning another sigh from Morrigan.

"I...understand." She says slowly. Flemeth turns her attention from Morrigan to us as she raises a finger and points it at the both of us.

"Do you understand Wardens? I give you that of which I value more than anything in this world. I do this because you **must** succeed." Flemeth says and I nod, seeing Alistair nod as well beside me.

"Yes, we understand. She will come to no harm with us."

Moments later, Flemeth has disappeared into her hut and Morrigan has joined Alistair and I near the edge of the clearing where the hut is. She turns to the both of us and crosses her arms, leaning on one foot.

"I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the Wilds: Lothering. Tis not far and you may find supplies and everything else you may need. Or, if you wish, I will simply be the silent guide." Morrigan says.

"_I'd rather the silent guide._" Alistair whispers under his breath to me, and I roll my eyes.

"No, I prefer you speak your mind, Morrigan. You have knowledge, and you shouldn't hinder it. " I say to her, giving a warm smile. Morrigan raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. We collect the bulk of our things, but not all of it. While I would most like to keep some trinkets that I had kept and not sold to the Quartermaster, I knew that I had a knew life ahead of me and would need space to store the memories.

The edge of the clearing seems to radiate with the Taint, something different from the ground we stand on. Some of the plants wilt and fade with a harsh blackness as the stinking, choking breath of the darkspawn washes over them. The Wilds itself smells of death and decay, something that I do not believe will occur only once.

I take the first step off of the clearing and feel the darkness sink into my soul, lucky that I am a Grey Warden and am immune to the Taint. It would be terrible if I were to be constantly worried with the thought that I may be killed just because of darkspawn blood.

"I can show us the way out of the Wilds by going around the horde." Morrigan says and I nod to her, Alistair and I following behind the apostate. There begins our trek to unite Ferelden and save it before it becomes a shriveled mass of tainted ground.

A/N You guys survived thirteen chapters and deserved a bit of a back story on Fiona. So, there it is. There will still be more secrets about her past, but this is to clear up any fog surrounding her past in a shroud of mystery. Stay tuned...in the next chapter, we gain a new companion.

Someone who should be a Warden, but isn't because Duncan took a trip the Circle instead.


	14. Cousland Survives

Two days after leaving the Korcari Wilds, we met Elayna Cousland.

I knew of the Couslands, but so did all of Ferelden. They were a noble family, and notably known in Highever, where their castle resides. My family and I had a farm on the outskirts of the large plot of land that held their estate. There was a stretch of land before you could really see the beautiful stone walls and the vines that crawl up and around where they aren't supposed to be. As a child I would lean out of the window and watch the castle as it was lit every night with torches. From the window I could make out most of the torches as their light flickered upon the walls and cast dim shadows. For the longest time I had always wanted to formally meet a Cousland, or even visit their castle. Mama had said that we shouldn't bother with important people, because important people knew templars. It was for my safety, she would say. But I didn't care, and at one point wanted to risk it all just to say hello to their daughter.

Now, it seemed my chance would finally come.

The road to Lothering was long and full of the occasional bandit and darkspawn. They were no match for us, but the damage was more in stress than any physical sort of damage. We were all plenty weathered down. Especially on the occasional warm days. By warm, I don't mean a brisk breeze and a humid heat. No, I mean a blistering and hot day. So hot that it was a struggle just to walk in all of the heavy clothes and armor. While Ferelden is usually mild in temperatures, these hot days seemed extremely rare. Morrigan suggested it might be something to do with the darkspawn corrupting the land and changing it.

"Or it might be just because we are getting closer to the horde. They breathe toxins out of their body and pollute the area. This heat may just be a side-effect of the Taint." She had said, and I had taken her advice seriously. Darkspawn did have nasty breath, anyway.

On that second day, we were walking in the heat and almost collapsing from it. I watched the sweat drip down Alistair's forehead as he walked. I felt sympathy for him, especially since he wasn't wearing the dress or robes that Morrigan and I wore. I walked in step with him and made my fingers dance, letting the cold seep into my bones and shimmer around my fingers. The cold air rose off my hands and I lightly pressed them on Alistair's arm. The cold lightly transferred from me to him and he suddenly shivered and tensed up. He looked over at me and I gave a small smile. He shook his head.

"No, you don't need to use up your energy on me. I'm fine, I mean it." He says and I take this as my chance to shake my head.

"You must be kidding, Alistair. You're wearing heavy armor and it's extremely hot. If I don't give you something to cool off, you'll pass out. I don't want that." I say and Alistair sighs, a short smile reaching his lips. "And if you have anything else to say, I'll gladly freeze you." I joked with him and he laughed a bit. My heart raced in my chest at the sheer closeness of us. Was it the heat, or Alistair...again?

Suddenly, Alistair tensed up again and stopped walking. Morrigan made a noise from behind and was about to say something when he raised a hand to quiet her.

"No, no, sh! Look, over there, by the tree! There are people...I can't tell if they're dead or not. Can you see it?" He pointed to a tree in the distance. Two figures slumped over each other in the shade of the tree. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look, but the sun was just beating down on my face. I nodded to Alistair and placed my hand flat like an awning over my eyes.

"I see it...it looks like people. Let's check it out!" I say and start to rush forward when Alistair grabs me by the elbow and pulls me back.

"Woah there! Are you actually going to go check it out?" He asks me and I nod, not moving my arm because I don't want him to let go.

"Yes, of course I am! Let's go now before something happens!" I'm getting a bit irritated, even if he is touching me, elbow or no. Alistair shakes his head.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. What if it's bandits? Darkspawn? What if something happens when you get there, nevermind stopping you from getting there." He shows genuine concern for me, but I shake my head and wiggle my elbow free, seriously regretting it.

I make an exasperated sigh and wrinkle my brow in confusion. "Have we not defeated bandits and darkspawn before? I see no issue with this. I'm going to go over there, and you can't stop me." I tilt my chin up and twirl my staff off my back and into my hands. I march forward only to feel two hands grab me by my shoulders and hold me back. It's Alistair, as per usual. I sigh and stop walking, only to look over my shoulder and see him looking down on me.

"I'm coming with you." He simply says and I sigh. He's being childish about this, and I can't pinpoint why. We have defeated not only armies of darkspawn and several groups of bandits along our travels, so why can't I go to a tree and check out a few mysterious figures?

"And here we are, back at the beginning of the conversation. Way to have the last word, Alistair." Morrigan scoffs from behind and I hear Alistair groan. They bicker as they walk, but I hurry ahead, terribly curious.

The tree is tall and gnarled at the roots, no doubt from darkspawn taint. The ground under the shade is cool and the grass brushes against my boots as I walk. Some patches are dead, but most of it is still green. I don't think I've ever seen green grass before, only in stories and books. I've always wanted to lie in a bed of flowers and just stare into the sky and take a nap. It just sounds so relaxing...and sad when you wake up remembering that it was just a dream.

Sitting in front of the tree are indeed two people. The first is sitting up, her back pressed against the dark bark of the tree. Her hair is a deep mahogany that falls in waves and curls down to her waist. Her skin seems extremely pale and it is only red lips and pink cheeks that add any color to her face at all. Her eyes are slightly open, but only slightly. Their color is a light brown. Her beautiful, flawless face is disfigured by a long gash that runs from her left side of the forehead, across her nose and stops at about half way down her cheek. The gash is angry and raw, bleeding only a bit. Her entire body looks bruised, broken and bloody, as if she escaped a nasty plight. She is wearing noblewoman's dress, complete with frills and lace. The lace tightens around her neck but is stained deeply with the red blood. It contrasts with the white of the rest of the dress. Only bits of blue and green poke out from the shocking white color. I lastly notice that she has only one shoe on.

Beside her is a smaller female but dressed in leather armor. The choker is decorated with symbols and decorative spirals. The armor is high on her chest and falls in pleats of browns and reds. Her stomach is exposed and is lined with cuts and a large knife burrowed deep into her gut. The bottom half of the armor is the same brown and red pleated pattern, but cut and ripped. Gloves are half torn from her hands and most of it stained also with blood. Her hair is a light auburn that shimmers with the last rays of sun poking through the branches of the tree. Her eyes are shut, one of them swollen to a blue-purple. Cuts zig zag across her whole body, but not as bad as the knife in her gut. She is dead, no doubt.

"H-Hello?" I call out to the brunette, the one alive. She moves a bit and slowly rolls her head in my direction. She notices me and seems to analyze me with her eyes as they calculate. Her lips seem chapped and bloody. She opens her mouth cautiously to speak, but closes it almost immediately and shakes her head with much resistant. It seems she is trying to back away from me.

"No, no, I'm not here to hurt you, I swear," I get down beside her and place my staff at my feet and out of my hands. She looks down at it and then back at me, studying me again. I feel probed, suddenly, and don't enjoy it. "What happened?" I ask.

The girl opens her mouth slowly again, this time sticking out her tongue as she tries to speak. "W-Wa-Wat-" She stumbles over her words as if it has been days since she has spoken or had anything to drink. I assume she wants water and quickly fiddle with my belt pouches for the small flask full of water and drip the contents slowly but surely into her mouth. I hear the others approach in the background.

"Well, I guess she isn't dead. Or darkspawn. Well the other one is dead but this one isn't." Alistair says and kneels beside me. The girl's eyes flicker over to him and she does that studying thing as she licks her lips and gets the wetness back to them. After a moment of looking back and forth between Alistair and I, she opens her mouth and this time has a better time speaking.

"Who a-are...you?" She stutters and speaks with a pause. The poor girl must have gone through a lot.

"My name is Fiona," I say and then gesture to Alistair. "This is my friend Alistair, and behind him is Morrigan. We are here to help you. We saw you here. Do you remember anything?" I attempt to not hound the injured girl with too many words, saving the rest for later. The girl is silent again, for a moment, before speaking.

"My-My family...murdered. A-Arl Howe...needs to pay, " The girl goes into a coughing fit and winces. I wince myself at her pain and raise both of my hands and let the healing power engulf into my hands. They shine blue and white, causing the girl to freak out a bit. "A-Are you an apos...apostate?"

I shake my head at her and she relaxes only a bit. She still seems a bit cautious of me. I place both hands on her shoulders and let the magic sink into her own skin. She relaxes even further as I heal her, and then before I know it, she is passed out. I pull back, hoping that it wasn't my magic that made her fall asleep.

"Morrigan?" I ask for advice. She stands beside me and kneels down, observing the girl. After a close examination, Morrigan looks over at me.

"She is still breathing, but only barely. She is better off dead then let suffer as we try to heal her." Morrigan says and I shake my head, my memories jumping in front of my eyes. Mama...dead. Aislin and Addis...dead. Everyone...dead.

"No! She can still be saved. I won't let her die." I say this and jump up to my feet.

"Alistair, would you be a dear and carry her a little further? I don't think this place is safe for camp, so we should find somewhere else. Over in that clearing looks good." I order, not by my choosing but by instinct. I'm not usually the bossy person, but if someone's life is on the line...you can bet I'm going to take control.

We head to the clearing I had noticed in the distance and set up camp as quick as possible. Alistair sets the girl on a bedroll and checks for her breathing as he leans in close. He looks to me and nods, seeming to say that she is still alive. I walk over and sit beside her, pulling out health poultices and bandages. Morrigan is starting the fire.

"We're going to save you." I say the girl, even if she can't hear me. I won't let someone die. Too many people have died. Too many...

* * *

The hours pass by and the girl still hasn't awoke. We take turns watching over her to check her breathing and such. By we, I mean Alistair and I. Morrigan still disapproves of us bringing the girl to camp, with constant complains such as 'she will probably slow us down,' or 'she is just an extra person not needed. If she stays, Alistair will have to leave,' and such others by those lines.

After about three hours, the girl finally stirred. She was kicking and moaning in her sleep, tears falling free down her face. She awoke with a start, her eyes flashing open as she hurls herself forward. Sweat glitters on her forehead as she looks from Alistair to me. I had promptly joined him when she started to make noises. The girl looks at her hands and sees the bandages that circle them. She presses her hands to her body and makes note of her dress being gone. Her face flashes red. I had to remove her dress, when Alistair wasn't looking as he requested, to bandage the rest of her injuries. The girl then finally brings a hand to her forehead, as if to cry, but feels the bandage that covers the long gash down her face with her fingers. She pulls her hand back in alarm and feels the bandages on her face. She looks at me, worry embedded deep into her eyes.

"It's alright. I've helped you recover. You were almost dead." I give a hesitant laugh and she shakes her head feverishly.

"No, No...where is Brianna? Is she here?" The girl asks and I assume she is talking about the other girl.

"I'm sorry, but Brianna was dead. We had no hopes of saving her. There was a knife in her stomach...there was no bringing her back to life." I look down, ashamed. The girl moves around a bit before clearing her throat. I promptly look up.

"I suppose...may the Maker and Andraste guide her," The girl knits her fingers together and presses them to her chin as she shuts her eyes and prays. I look over to Alistair who shrugs. The girl finishes praying and looks from Alistair to me again.

"Who are you? I'm sorry...I don't really remember."

I give her a smile and Alistair does too. "That's alright and reasonable. I am Fiona, this is Alistair, and the one behind us is Morrigan." I explain, gesturing to everyone.

"Yeah, the grumpy one is Morrigan." Alistair mutters after, causing the girl to giggle a bit. She grabs a handful of her hair and uses her finger to run through it, the curls bouncing and straightening with every movement.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am Elayna. Elayna Cousland. The other woman was my lady in waiting, Brianna. I will miss her dearly, but she was a great lady in waiting." My eyes widen when Elayna says she is a Cousland. This is the Cousland who I had always wanted to visit back on the farm! This is the youngest daughter of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland. This is a noble!

"One thing I do not understand, Lady Cousland, is why your lady in waiting was wearing a rogue's garb. Does she have a double life that you are not knowing of?" Morrigan pipes up from behind. Elayna eyes Morrigan for a moment.

"Oh, yes, she is a lady in waiting, but also my body-guard. We had been friends since we were young children, and she had been recruited to my request into the Cousland guard. I also specifically request that she be my lady in waiting and personal guard." Elayna explains and I nod, understanding. But one thing still trips me up...why is she not at Castle Cousland, a fairly safe place?

"My lady, why are you not at Castle Cousland?" Alistair asks, as if he read my mind. Elayna is quiet for a moment. Then, she speaks.

"It is...too terrible to speak of. But I will. My family, everyone...they were murdered by Arl Howe's men. He stormed in the night when my brother left for Ostagar. Brianna and I just managed to get out of there before the entire army stormed the gates. We escaped and ran out of there as fast as we could. It took us days, almost weeks to make it here from Highever. We had no food or shelter, so we had to forage for it. I had no knowledge of how to forage, so Brianna did most of the work, Maker bless her. If I can remember correctly...when we arrived at the tree...Brianna was becoming sad. She wouldn't look at me and was often falling on her blade in grief and guilt for everyone dying. She put the knife to her own stomach, and I had not noticed..." Elayna said, dabbing the corner of her eyes with the blanket. I felt a gnawing pain in the back of my head and gut. There was something...something wrong with her story. I don't know what it is, but something feels off. Elayna cries for a moment longer and Alistair looks over at her in sympathy. My face flames and I feel a pang in my chest.

"My lady Cousland, I promise you that when this is all over, we will help you restore Castle Cousland and find your brother." Alistair goes to her side and holds her delicate and bandaged hand in his own. Elayna's face turns a few shades lighter red, but it is only at the cheeks instead of all over, like myself. I envy her almost immediately.

"I thank you, Grey Warden." Elayna says and my eyes jump to her. How did she know we were Grey Wardens?! We hadn't said anything of the like to her! I look over to Morrigan to see if she noticed, but she is warming herself by the fire. Alistair doesn't seem to notice her either, seeing as he's still talking to her and she's still sweet-talking him. I clench my fists and stand up, heading to the fire. I won't say anything and I won't do anything. I suppose Elayna is a noble, and nobles expect everything to lay at their feet. Especially attractive young men with swords on their back.

But I won't let Lady Cousland steal Alistair from me. No, she won't dare to do it. I don't care if there is a war within a war within a war here. If Lady Cousland wants Alistair, she will have to fight for him. Something I'd pay to see.


	15. Lothering

"There it is: Lothering. Pretty as a picture."

We all look to Alistair, seeing as he was the one who spoke. We all either nod or grumble some sort of reply. Elayna is staring up at Alistair, at his side as she specifically requested. "I'm still terribly injured," she had said. "I need Alistair to help me walk." Followed by a feeble cough and a short moan.

It had been another two days since we had run into Elayna Cousland and her dead lady-in-waiting-guard. During those two days, all the time was spent tending to the noble and making sure she was in perfect condition. I obliged most of the time, earning stern looks from Alistair. I could tell he was never angry at me, but awfully annoyed at my persistent attitude to not tend to her Lady Cousland's every beck and call.

It wasn't that I didn't like her. No, she was an almost nice person. Extremely snobby, she was, but other than the rough edges she was very kind. It was easy to tell that she was raised to be the best partner for a rich noble some day. Her words executed nobility to a T, and her mood did as well. She blushed in the most gentle way, smiled in the softest tones, and her laugh sounded like bells. I was jealous, no doubt. But mostly envious of her wanting to claim Alistair for her own.

* * *

On one of the long nights, I was healing her with my little knowledge. Morrigan and I often took turns healing her, which was very surprising coming from someone like Morrigan. She would say ample insults to Alistair, be likable to me, and then seem almost spiteful to Elayna. Yet, she still healed the girl. It was my turn, and I reluctantly entered the tent we had made for Elayna. She lay on the bed roll, her foot tapping the air to some unknown beat. I entered without a word and promptly lit my hands with the magic healing light. It startled Elayna, but then she giggled afterward.

"You seem so silent," she had said to me. "Why is that? When we had first met, I remember you being very confident and like a leader to the others. Now you lurk in the shadows like a snake. Why?" I didn't want to answer her, only because I wanted to keep her guessing. Only so that I could pick away at her seemingly impenetrable shield. So, I didn't say a thing, but continued to run my hands over her body. She made an exaggerated noise and shifted a bit, distracting me only a bit.

"Oh, come on! Just say something! I know you speak to Alistair, I've seen it! You aren't mute." She lowered her dark brows at me, as if trying to read me. I don't let her, not until she threatens me.

"OH, you do, don't you! Well, then, I suppose if you won't speak to me, I'll have to pass the word..." She prepared to stand up, to tell him. My eyes widened in fear and I jumped to my feet, blocking her. Elayna smirked at me and sat back down.

"Well, it seems we are at an impasse." She said, crossing her arms. I nodded slowly and sat back down.

"It seems that way." I finally said. Elayna grinned wildly at me and brought her knees to her chest.

"Oh, it's so nice to hear you speak! It's been far too long, my friend. Might I say that you have great taste in men. The blonde bulk with a sword is my favorite as well. I hope it doesn't prove an imposition on our friendship." She smiled at me, genuine. I wanted to roll my eyes. Friendship? I wouldn't trust this girl with my life. But then again...she did seem pretty true to her words. Perhaps I'll give her a second chance.

"I hope so myself. But then it'd be like the minstrel's tales, where the peasant falls in love with a prince, but then an exotic princess catches his eye, and the peasant and princess fight for his love. Have you not heard of these?" I asked her, as she seemed terribly confused when I spoke of the story. Elayna shook her head, her curls bouncing.

"No, but I have seen the minstrels in their song and dance. Mother and Father would hold some events with traveling minstrels to entertain the guests. I never stuck around long enough to listen. If you know any stories to tell, I'd love to hear them," She had then taken her long, beautiful hair and pulled it back into mass at her back. Again, I had been jealous of her long, exotic hair. Unlike her, I had hair that just passed my jaw and was a yellow color.

"Perhaps." I had said, giving her a small wink. She had giggled gleefully and snuggled back down onto the bed, waiting for me to continue the healing.

* * *

Now, we stood on the long bridge. Lothering stood in the far distance, not too far from our stance. We only had to pass through a group of people. I assumed either bandits or refugees. While the latter seemed more kind for us, it was more likely bandits. We approached, slow and steady. The bandits seemed awfully lax, seeing as most of them were either lounging on crates and wagons, practicing with their weapons or chatting amongst themselves. Once one of them caught sight of us, they all did. One of them, the leader I presumed, jumped to his feet with a bright smile on his face. He had dark skin and a trimmed haircut. Dirt smeared his face.

"Ah, travelers! We welcome you to Lothering, home to all matter of Fereldans. However, this is a toll that we ask you pay. A simple thirty silver and you're free to cross." The bandit says, and I raise a brow, crossing my arms.

"What will my toll pay for? Your full bellies? Some new armor?" I ask, and the first bandit waves his hands as if to not alert me.

"No, no! It is to help with the upkeep of the Imperial bridge! Every visitor must pay." The bandit smiles brightly at me, but I don't buy it. If anyone did, then I would sorely feel bad for them.

"Only thirty silver? It seems by the condition of the bridge you should pay more." I say, earning a shocked look from the bandits and the group of people behind me. Elayna and Alistair seemed as surprised as the bandits. Morrigan was the only one who seemed to know where I was going, or if not, had a good way of hiding her emotions.

"Y-You are willing to pay more?" One of the bandits beside the leader asks. I shrug.

"No, but I thought you'd like to know that. I also hope that you don't mind that my companions and I will not pay your toll, nor let you charge anyone for a non-existent fee." I smile at the man and he narrows his eyes. Elayna glides to my side and tugs on my sleeve.

"Why don't we just pay them? It's only thirty silver! They won't cause us any trouble, anyway." Elayna hisses in my ear, but I swat her away like a gnat. One of the bandits off to the side with a shaved red scalp and a trimmed beard tapped the leader on the shoulder. He whispers something into the leader's ear, and I swear I can hear the words 'Grey Wardens' and 'Teyrn Loghain'. I strain to overhear them, but just as soon as I lean toward them, they finish whispering.

"My friend here believes that you all are Grey Wardens. Is this true?" He asks. I nod, swiftly. Elayna tugs at my sleeve again but I brush her away again. "Ah, then you must know that the Teyrn Loghain has put quite the bounty on your heads. Surely enough to restore the bridge to its once glorious state." The leader begins to draw his weapon, but I smirk at him, raising a finger and shaking it at his direction.

"Bad, bad man. Do you know what we are besides Grey Wardens? This woman behind me is the Witch of the Wilds, the man an infamous murderer known for taking small children and drowning them, the other woman a desire demon and I a mage. Do you truly wish to go against us?" I ask him, drawing out my hand and letting a dull light engulf it. The red-haired one gulps, but the leader only cowers a bit. He then shakes his head, reaching for his sword again.

"Mage, desire demon, murderer, Witch of the Wilds or no, we won't go down without a fight. Boys!" The leader says, and at least ten more bandits appear and already add to the large group. I swallow my fears and turn to my group, pride reflecting in my eyes. None of the bandit groups were this big, or this organized. The others were simply parties of bandits that were traveling along the road and had come across us.

"We'll do fine. Alistair, can you see Elayna to a safe corner, or toss her over the bridge? Something to keep her safe." I give her a spurious smile and wave Alistair off. He is confused at first, not knowing what to do with Elayna, but then puts her in the back, by a broken piece of the road and whispers a few things to her. She nods and then tightly clasps her hands around his neck and hugs him. My cheeks flame and I feel the fire spurting in the palm of my hand, I want to direct it to her, but I know I can't. It might hit Alistair.

From my standing point, I can see him blushing crazily. He breaks off from Elayna and runs back over, his face as plenty red as mine. He notices this and is about to say something when the bandits give a shout and charge.

I quickly aim a fireball in the center of the group. Most of are engulfed in the flames and die quickly, while the others are still standing. Alistair lunges forward, his shield pressed firmly out in front of him and his sword hanging by his hand. He approaches the first two bandits and bashes them with his shield while Morrigan and I fire spells. I turn quickly over my shoulder to see Elayna staring at us, her hands twitching and her eyes watching us. I look away from her just in time to see a bandit shove a dagger deep into my arm.

Pain explods from the wound in a small shower of blood. I glare at the man and shove him away with the end of my staff, which I had sharpened to provide a better weapon. The sharp end of the staff impales him the neck, showering me in some more blood. I cringe and want to groan, but I keep it within me with much composure. The bandit falls limply to the ground. I yank the knife from my arm with equanimity and throw it to the ground, seething. More bandits head toward me and I quickly Mind Blast them before they can assault me. The bandits halt in their places, looking very lost. I smirk at them and use my staff to slice at them and shove them aside. They awaken from their trances and head for me, but a large ball of something hurls toward them. They are shoved away by the impact of the ball. I turn to see Morrigan has her staff aimed at me, a stern look on her face. She turns on her heel and battles some more bandits. I nod to her and to myself, attacking more of them and healing when needed.

The bandits are killed off quite quickly, leaving only the leader to be struggling for air on the ground. I approach him, one hand pressed against my throbbing wound. He looks up at me, shaking like a leaf.

"No, please! Just let me live! I promise that we won't rob anyone else, or talk about you. We'll just go and never come back. Please!" He begs, but I shake my head.

"There is no justice for you here with me. You will turn yourselves into the authority immediately." I press my staff to his neck and he nods feverishly. He jumps to his feet, only to unsheath two daggers from his belt.

"Like hell I will!" He screams, lunging at me. I can't move quick enough and he is only a few inches in front of me, his daggers centimeters from my skin. Everything seems to move in slow motion. I'm trying to throw him off with my staff, but he's too fast. I wait for the blow, but see a sword come from the side and stab the bandit in the chest. He stops in mid-air, his blades only skimming against my face. Blood pools out of his mouth and he crumples to the ground. The sword is extracted from his chest, and I see that it is Alistair. He looks at me, blood splattered on his face and a bit in his hair. I want to run up to him and brush the blood out with my sleeve, but I stay still.

"T-Thank you." I can only say, just before Elayna comes screeching from behind, limping only a bit, and latching on Alistair. He looks at me with a frame of sympathy around his eyes, but I only smile to hide the pain. Elayna burrows herself into his armor and seems to be making a strange noise...is she crying?

"Oh, Alistair, I thought you were dead for sure! I thought everyone was dead, too, I mean, but mostly you!" She sniffles and pulls back, looking up at him. Alistair seems a mixture of concerned and horrified. He gives a shaky smile at her and I hide a laugh.

"It's fine, Elayna. We've killed plenty bandits before...and lived." He says and I can almost not hold in my laughter. I have to look away. There is some squabbling from behind me, mostly Elayna and Alistair and the occasional insult from Morrigan. I notice a corpse dressed in a templar uniform. I approach slowly, all hilarity washed from my face. I kneel by him and see that it is indeed a templar. No doubt that this was someone who was missed. While I believe mages could make do without templars, I still believe in him having a family, a wife, children...people who would miss him. It makes me think of my family. I want to cry, but I don't.

"The girl wants to coddle you, Alistair, and you allow her to do so. Quite the big, bad ex-templar and Grey Warden that you are." Morrigan sarcastically says, a scoff rising from her throat.

"It's not as if I can pry her off me! Andraste's flaming sword, let go Elayna!" Alistair groans at Elayna who only giggles.

"You know you like it, darling. I've got a lovely hug, or so I'm told." Elayna counters, making me even more annoyed. I hold my breath, trying to ignore her and her infantile behaviour. I distract myself and go through his pockets, hoping to find something that may label the fallen templar, but only find a note and a locket. I pocket those and turn toward the group. They are squabbling while Morrigan is watching with an amused expression at Alistair as he tries to coax Elayna off of his waist.

I roll my eyes, and clear my throat loudly. "Shall we head for Lothering, then? Unless you are all just too busy to attend to greater matters, like, oh I don't know, the Blight?!" I aim most of my words at Elayna, who seems to only care less of what I say. She locks eyes with me, and I smell malevolence in her gaze. It's mine or hers, I can barely tell.

She peels herself from Alistair and smiles up at him. He smiles back at her but looks at me as I furrows his brows. Morrigan is chuckling and shaking her head. We continue on, past the slain bandits and on to the stone ramp that divides into Lothering. Alistair stops us.

"I've been thinking," He says. I half expect him to say something about Elayna or Morrigan, but he doesn't. "And I want to know where we are going after Lothering."

"We...oh, you know I guess we haven't thought much of this, have we? We know the plan, but not the outline. What is on your mind?" I ask him.

"I say we grab a map and mark where of the four places should we hit first. There's Lake Calenhad, the Frostback Mountains, the Brecilian Forest and Redcliffe. As I am aware, Redcliffe and the Brecilian Forest are the closest. Both are west and east of Lothering. Then there's Lake Calenhad that is north of Redcliffe, and finally the Frostback mountains up in the northwest of Ferelden." He explains all of this, saying more words than I ever have expected him to say. I thought that Alistair was a man of small words, but not these important and intelligent ones. It's not like I don't think he's smart.

"That's a brilliant plan, Alistair. And what of Loghain?" I say, barely hissing out the words. Alistair's face darkens, as if he is also being brought back to the memories of Ostagar.

"We will deal with him, eventually. Arl Eamon can help us with that. For now, we go see the Arl and gather the army." I nod to him and we all turn toward Lothering. The sun is high in the sky, casting short shadows everywhere. While this place would be as pretty as a picture literally, it honestly isn't. The whole place seems depressing and down...as if all hope is lost for it.

* * *

While in Lothering, a number of things happened. Two of the many things involved gaining new people into our small party. One of them a Qunari named Sten and the other Orlesian Chantry Lay Sister named Leliana. I found Sten to be quite...quiet, and Leliana extremely underestimated. It was also well-worked that between Alistair and I, she was possibly insane. Not only did she claim that she had visions of the Maker speaking to her, but she said that she had been sent to join us. While she was harmless in appearance, Leliana could handle her weapons with a unique mastery. Sten was like her, in a way. By appearance and first glance, you'd think otherwise of them. But, then, when you got to know them, you realized how deep they really were.

Upon entering the fields and spacious nature, we were stopped by a group of farmers. They were nervously twiddling their daggers and swords, sweating like swine. When they caught sight of us, they straightened with much difficulty.

"Great, a second group of hired bounty hunters out for our heads. I'm beginning to wonder how desperate Loghain truly is." Alistair sighs sarcastically from behind, and I can't help but agree. Loghain must either believe that enough people after us will chase us away, or that all these roups will kill us. It's either simply fright, or cowardice.

"You're the Grey Wardens, aren't you?" The blonde one near the front asks. I am cautious as to whether or not I nod or convince them otherwise. I look over my shoulder at Alistair, who shakes his head abruptly. I turn back to the group and shake my head.

"No, you've been mistaken. We aren't Grey Wardens." I say, but the blonde farmer only sighs and runs dull side of the blade over his palm.

"Listen, we know you are Grey Wardens, and we know about that bounty on your heads. That'd be enough food to feed us all. I wouldn't do this otherwise, I swear. Maker forgive us!" He shouts and lunges at us. I use a quick fire-spell at the unarmed men and they erupt into flames. With a few stabs and slices, the group is finished quickly. While strength is in numbers, the group was no match for our variety in styles and mastery. I spy Elayna in the back, angrily tapping her foot and impatiently waiting for us to finish fighting. I want to ask her as we approach the bridge that leads back up to the Highway, but we are stopped by a sudden shout. Someone is shouting for help.

We hurry forward, but are stopped once again by another shout, but from behind us. It's Elayna. She storms up to me and points a finger at my chest, her face red and angry.

"Why won't you let me fight?!" She asks, and I am taken back.

"Pardon me, Lady Cousland, but as I remembered, you weren't raised to be a boy like your brother, but a lady like your mother. I had no idea you could handle a weapon." I say to her, and she narrows her eyes.

"How in the name of the Maker did you know that?" She seethes, but I keep my cool. As much as I want to rip her head off, I regain my composure.

"I lived just on the boundaries of your castle, Elayna. Besides, you're a Cousland. There is no doubt in my mind that complete strangers know more about you than your own kin-" I freeze, catching my words. Her face softens and tears cloud up her eyes. I fumble for an apology.

"I'm so sorry! I-"

"It's fine. Just, give me a weapon. I'd like to show you what I've got, if you don't think I'm that good." Elayna hisses at me, gliding over to Leliana and snatching the daggers from her back. Elayna handles the daggers with much integrity as she marches past us and to the pleas of help. We are all confused, well most of us, save Sten, and hurry after her.

The burning feeling returns and I sense the darkspawn, my gaze catching Alistair's. There are four darkspawn attacking two dwarfs and demolishing all of their boxes. With each stomp and swing of a weapon, the air and ground seem to radiate with cruelty and neglect. Elayna breezes by us and attacks the first darkspawn she sees, slashing and hacking at it. She leaps behind the Hurlock and slices it on the back of the knees, causing it to trip forward. She whirls around till she is in front of it again and takes a long stab in the throat. Blood splatters everywhere.

Still mesmerizing by her fighting, it takes a shout from Elayna and exaggerated gesturing to the rest of the darkspawn for us to come back to life and help the dwarves. Within a moment, the fighting is over and the bodies of the darkspawn lay, desecrating even the ground they lay on. Most of the damage done from Elayna.

She gave a last hack at an already dead Genlock and screamed out. Elayna stood up and off of it, handing the daggers to Leliana. She smiled brightly at Leliana, then frowned at me.

"See? I can fight. Now I can join you instead of standing around like an idiot." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Elayna! You aren't immune to the taint - you could die because of these darkspawn?! Even if you could fight before, you could still die without drawing a weapon." Alistair says, racing up behind me and up to Elayna. Her face falls and she looks down, a dark look crossing her face. I swear I see a smile flicker across her face in the blink of an eye.

"Oh...I'm sorry Alistair. I didn't know- but I can still fight! If you can let Leliana and Sten fight, then I will as well! I'd rather die fighting the darkspawn in the name of Ferelden than die at the hands of some bandit." Her face brightens and she drops her arms, straightening her back and tilting her chin up at him. While someone else might be thinking that she's being extremely brave, I think she's extremely childish. She wants to bring up that if Leliana and Sten can fight, then so can she? I bring a free hand to the bridge of my nose and rub it, groaning out loud.

Beside the group, the dwarves creep toward us. The one with the most decorative beard, seeing as the other one didn't even have a beard, approached us with a little more confidence.

"Ah, much obliged, friend! I don't know where we'd be if you hadn't come across us." He says, bowing a bit. The short dwarf looks even shorter if he's bowing. I stifle a laugh, only because it isn't right. But, I haven't seen a dwarf before, just as I haven't seen grass. Only in books did I get a glimpse into the outside world. Besides, it wasn't as if dwarves were at the Circle tower. Dwarves couldn't even possess magic!

"You're welcome. I am Fiona of the Grey Wardens, and these are my companions. Elayna, Alistair, Morrigan, Sten and Leliana. We've got quite the group, wouldn't you say?" I offer a bit of a joke, seeing as our group consists of a tempering 'princess', a dashing ex-templar, a snaky witch, a qunari and a Chantry Lay sister. The dwarf looks over and past me at the group, offering a bit of a wave.

"A pleasure to meet you all. I'm Bodahn Feddic and this here is my boy, Sandal. Say hello to the nice lady, won't you?" He turns over his shoulder to look at the blonde boy with bright eyes. Sandal looks up from shuffling through broken crates.

"Hello." He says, and only that before stooping back down. I smile, being nice, back at Bodahn.

"He's a treasure. Well, anyway, thanks again for saving our necks back there. Perhaps we're going the same way?" He asks, but I shake my head.

"No, I don't believe we are. But you are welcome, nonetheless." Bodahn nods.

"Yeah, too much excitement for me and my boy anyway. Come on Sandal, we have a lot of cleaning up to do." He claps his hands and turns, heading back to Sandal. I turn around and face the group. Elayna is clutching Alistair's arm, and a fire burns deeply in my soul.

I meet eyes with Alistair, and his gaze locks on mine. I try to communicate with only eyes. _You must know she's trouble_, I want to say but I don't. Instead, I look away.

"Shall we continue on? It is dreadfully imposing on both our time and our health to bother with meager tasks for the whole town." Morrigan says, not even bothering to listen to anyone else speak as she turns on her heel and heads down the Imperial road. It seems we have no choice but to follow after her. While people, Alistair, would rather not follow, it is the only way we can go. I breeze past him and feel his arm graze mine as he attempts to reach out and grab me. I don't look back as I head forward.

"Alistair! Can you tell about yourself? I really want to know, and it will be a while before we get anywhere safe to put up camp, don't you think? Please? Please!?" Elayna squeals from behind and I clench my fists and grit my teeth. What a complete, and utter...Oh, I can't even think of the proper words that can spew out of my mouth that fit her complete description.


	16. Tainted Fade and a Dog

The Fade is an even stranger place with the taint coursing through my veins.

Before it all, the Fade was a place of quiet and serenity. I could be alone, and be to myself. I didn't have to suffer with the routine days of my apprentice lessons, or confront reality and the sheer fact that I was never going to leave the Circle. Once I left the Circle, my dreams and the Fade were plagued with nightmares of my dead family and the murder that occurred. After the Joining, it was a combination of the other dreams but with an archdemon thrown in the picture.

Tonight, the archdemon is destroying everything.

I'm watching from a high hill at the marching darkspawn that are flaming and shouting, a low rumble rising up to the hill. The archdemon flies above them all, blowing fire above their heads and making the rumble grow with anticipation. I don't want to watch anymore, and forcibly rip myself from the disturbing sight. In front of me now is the discarded bodies of dead soldiers and mages. Blood leaks from their still bodies and pools around my feet. I moan at the sight and step out of the puddle, stepping over bodies and looking at their pale faces. I recognize a few. Nearly hidden by another body lying on his, Duncan stares up at me with wide eyes. Suddenly he is pulled from behind the body like a ragdoll and floats in front of me, his mouth wide and jaw broken. His eyes stare into mine, no pupil, and only white, empty holes. They seem to glow with life, bursting and beating like a heart. Duncan stares at me, hovering in place and twitching a bit. I'm waiting for any words to come out of his mouth, but he just stares. A shiver runs up and down my spine as I try to evade his stare, but his eyes come into my mind even if I shut my eyes. I step around the bodies and around the hovering figure of a dead Duncan. He doesn't stand in front of me again, but I can feel him groaning and moaning from behind. I take a peek over my shoulder and see his head right there, following me. The white eyes are just nearly against my cheek. My breath just barely comes out my throat as my stomach knots in pain.

I want to cry, I'm so scared. I shake and turn my head forward again, stepping over more bodies as I hear the unearthly breath of Duncan in my ear. I continue forward and find the body of King Cailan hidden under four or five bodies. Like Duncan, King Cailan is pulled forth from the bodies like a ragdoll and hovers in front of me. His face is empty like Duncan's, and his eyes a white hole that shimmers. The king has blood dripping down his face, splattering onto his gold armor. The king watches me, his white eyes giving that stomach wrenching feeling. I feel the tears slip down my face and the sob choke in my throat. I move out of the way and feel his gaze follow me as I turn away. They are both behind me now, no doubt. I don't even want to turn back at this point.

As my footsteps echo in the Fade, I see the ground twitch and the bodies move a bit. Oh, Maker protect me and Andraste guide me to safety. Their eyes blink open and are white, glowing holes. All bodies jump into the air and hover there, watching me. All eyes are on me. I feel small, meaningless. But I know I can't just let my own sub-conscious take control of me. I tilt my chin up and hold myself, marching past the hovering bodies. A few of them aren't even soldiers, but villagers. I see Mama, Aislin, and Addis in the corner of my eye. I hold back the tears, the heat stinging the corner of my eyes. I must continue on. _I must_.

From above, I hear the threatening roar of the archdemon. It sails overheard, blowing fire in all directions. The heat dances over my body, but it doesn't hurt. There's no stopping. The archdemon flies over again, this time setting bodies on fire. When they are lit, they scream in agony and pain. The sound burrows deep into my head, echoing and pounding restlessly. "No more, please," I say, placing two hands over my ears as I try to block out the sounds. The screams don't stop. They bounce around the Fade, making the trees light with fire. Everything is on fire. "Please, stop!" I scream, halting my march and falling to my knees. My body shakes as the fiery bodies circle around me, screaming and shouting. Their screams blend into my own, becoming one. Then, it's nothing but me screaming. I can't get out. I can't get them out of my head.

_Someone help me_.

* * *

I awake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest and the last of a scream ripping out of my throat. Sweat beads down my neck, and I feel the uncomfortable heat everywhere. I look around, desperate to know that this isn't the Fade any longer. Trees swarm the area, surrounding the clearing in a fence of security. Above, the clouds linger over stars and the moonlight shines down the darkened areas of the camp. I hear the sounds of a fire crackling and sputtering.

Slowly sitting up, I lay the heel of my hand against my forehead, trying to ignore the tight band stretching across my forehead. It beats like someone is consistently hitting me over the head with a blunt object.

"Have a bad dream?" I hear a familiar voice ask. I turn, slowly looking over. Beside the fire is Alistair, casually sitting. The light breeze ruffles his hair, making my heart soar and go at a rapid pace.

"You can say that again," I moan. "It wasn't even a dream. It was a nightmare. Worse than any of the other ones." The tears are stinging the corner of my eyes, but I bite my lip to keep from crying.

"Yep. The price to pay for becoming a Grey Warden. You're able to hear the darkspawn, which was mostly what your dream was. Hearing them." He explained, but I shook my head. I slowly made my way to the fire, sitting at a relative distance from him.

"I heard them…yes, but…it was worse. Oh, much worse. It wasn't just darkspawn having a bliss conversation. There were bodies…floating bodies! They looked at me, swarmed me, as if it was my fault. They followed me…it was horrible." I mutter, digging my head into my robes. I didn't want to shut my eyes, in fear of reliving the nightmare. I quickly pulled my head from my lap and sighed, staring into the roaring flames.

There is a moment of silence before Alistair speaks again. "Did you see the archdemon?" He asks. I take a breath before nodding.

"Yes."

"That's how we know this is a real Blight." He says, and I understand. It's a shame though. Alistair and I are the only two people who can understand the real emergency – that this isn't just a growing horde. We can see the archdemon…hear it. No one else can, so they'll just keep thinking that this isn't a Blight. Not until the archdemon swoops in and eats everyone up.

I brush a stray hair behind my ear absentmindedly. "Does that mean that we're the only ones that know that this really is a Blight? It's not as if anyone else can have these dreams," I say. "Unless of course, people have begun to understand that this is a Blight, and they don't need 'traitors' to tell them about it even more? Because that's what we are, according to Teyrn Loghain. Traitors. We killed the king. We disrupted the peace in Ferelden. All our fault." I scoff, kicking a pebble into the fire with the tip of my toe. It sails in and just sits in the flames, being a rock. It makes me wish that I was a rock, strange as it seems. Rocks are simple things that don't bother anyone, unless they bother with them. Days go on and life continues with or without them. You can't yell at a rock or praise it. Unless you're mad, of course. But besides that, rocks have a wondrous life without a care. If only they were alive. Then I'd like to ask them what they do in their day, how they get along, and how it feels to not be thrown as the hero of a story they didn't even write.

"Traitors. I rather like that name. If it weren't such a literal term, of course. But anyway, I suppose that word has spread and people have whispered in each other's ears that this really is a Blight. If not, then I suppose we have some major convincing to do. I propose not using brute force. That never works, at least not with me." Alistair says, and I don't know whether I should laugh or not. His words ring with a tinge of sadness but also a joking sense. I begin to wonder about his background, if or when he might tell me more about it, save that he was raised by Arl Eamon.

"Do they go away? Not the people, but the dreams." I ask, and Alistair gives a half shrug.

"It takes a while: years maybe. It depends on the person, or so I've heard. Eventually, though, you can block out the dreams. Some can even understand the archdemon, but I can't; that's for sure." Alistair looks away, staring into the dancing embers of the fire. I watch too, absorbed in it that it feels like hours have gone by before anyone says anything else. Or rather, someone else makes a noise.

There is a short, high-pitched grunt from behind Alistair. I raise a brow at him, and he gives a small smile. I peek over his shoulder to see the silhouette of Elayna cuddling onto the bedroll. While Alistair sits on a small hill, Elayna is somewhere near the bottom. She moves a bit, making some more noise. A loud snore comes out of her throat and I stifle a giggle. Alistair gives a wide smile, hiding his own laugh as well.

"Anyhow," He says, trying to speak over the snores. "I just wanted to tell you all of this. You were shrieking a bit in your sleep and thrashing a lot. I had someone telling me all of this when it was my first time, so I thought you deserve the same as well. It can be really scary." He smiles at me, a genuine smile. Not the joking grin. This time, it's serious and sweet. I smile back, glad that I'm by the fire. It would make sense for my face to redden. But, I suppose at this point, it's obvious that I have a blushing issue.

"Thank you Alistair. I appreciate it. I really do." Our eyes lock together, a thousand words sprouting from my mouth without me having to open it. It's amazing what eye-contact can do, and how it can provide more emotion than saying a word.

"Well, that's why I stick around. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners." I laugh at him and he smiles at me. I'm glad Alistair is around. Without him, it would be terribly gloomy around here. Elayna would also probably be far more beaten than when we found her, as well.

* * *

"So what did you and Alistair talk about? I heard you last night. I was not sleeping, but you probably thought that I was. The joker that I am." Elayna gives a small laugh and I give a hasty smile. I really don't want to talk to her. I was in the forest for a reason, and that reason to find herbs and maybe even poisons if I felt the need.

Which I did, now.

"It's really none of your business, Elayna. It's not like we stayed up all night chatting about you." I say, bending down to gather some Elfroot. I stuff it into a leather bag and continue on. She follows after me, skipping over rocks and sharp objects. Why she's barefoot, I'll never know.

"You _were_ chatting about me, weren't you? That is why you brought it up. Oh, I should have known. What did you say? Nice things, I hope. I want Alistair to think of me as a nice person, because I am nice. Right?" I mask my sigh of annoyance with a cough. I try to lose her by ducking behind several broken trees and around corners, but she just won't come off my tail.

"Oh yes, you're very nice. And modest." I lie, narrowing my eyes when she isn't looking.

Elayna breathes out in relief. "Thank the Maker. Did you tell him that?" I decide to be truthful with her.

"No, I didn't."

"What? Why not?" She asks, exasperated and surprised when I suddenly stop and she crashes into my back. With a small noise, she bounces back and rubs her nose. She's only a few inches shorter than me, yet she asks as if I'm a wall. A tall, massive wall that could break her nose with a simple half step back.

"Because…oh, you know why." I whirl around to her for only a moment, but turning back on my heel and stalking forward. There is a moment of silence before she lets out a large 'oh!' I roll my eyes, continuing on and only half listening to her.

"Right, right! Because you like him as well. I forgot. Shame on me. Anyway, it makes sense that you didn't tell him. You are only trying to make yourself look better, not poor old me. Last of my line, I am. It would be good for me to continue on…" She skips in front of me, and my jaw goes slack. While I'm barely thinking about kissing Alistair, she's already planning children? I shut my mouth with a snap and glare at her as I pass by. Elayna doesn't stop though, only skipping at a faster pace to catch up with me and be ahead.

"Yes, little ole' me the last of the Couslands. Father and Mother would have wanted me to continue the line, if Fergus is dead, of course. Is he dead? He went to Ostagar, which I'm assuming you and Alistair went to—"(Lies. If she knew we were Grey Wardens before we even mentioned it, she clearly knows we were at Ostagar.) "—then you must have seen him, right? Please tell me it is so! I don't want to be the last of my line." She pouts, bring both hands out to stop me from running away. I sigh, shaking my head tightly.

"No, I don't know Elayna. I never even met your brother. I was stuck with only watching Castle Cousland from my little farmhouse, never the glory of being inside of it and meeting you all. That was an honor my Mama did not want." I don't even know why I'm telling her all of this. Whatever. It's not like she can hold this against me.

"You were the one living in the farmhouse on the edge of the land? Oh, I have seen that place many times, especially when I was little. But as the years went on, the house was always empty. Why is that? Does your family not live there anymore?" She asks, and that makes my heart skip a beat. The mention of my family…especially with the most recent and rash dream. I blink away tears, the topic tender. I turn from her and evade her glance and head back toward camp.

Elayna seems to guess from my look that this isn't a subject to talk about. Or, at least I hope she thinks that.

"What? Do they live there or not? Did they move away?" She continues to hound me with questions, while I'd rather not. I thought of her as a lady for only a second, and take it away now. She has no sense of privacy. While Elayna continues to lay the questions on me, I feel the rage bubbling inside of me. I want to hurt her, to do something to make her shut up. The more questions she asks, the angrier I become. Finally, I can't take it. I while around to face her, my finger sticking out to poke her and prod until she's backed against a tree.

"Will you just _shut up_? Clearly I don't want to speak about my family. I'm not answering questions, and I've had enough of your badgering. Anymore out of you and I will not hesitate to turn you into a toad. Or, how about a dog. A slobbering dog that can't speak? Mabari may be smart, but you would be a different one. I don't even think Mabari can track people down. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs, but…I'm way more of a cat person. Dogs are—"I'm rambling, and Elayna is becoming frightened. Just as I head back on track, there is a large boom from somewhere out in the forest. I jump, my glare on Elayna releasing as she slips from her spot on the tree. The booms continue until it sounds just off in the distance.

Elayna gulps. "W-What's there?" She asks, and I wave her off. Curiosity gets the better of me, even though half of my brain is yelling at me to stay away. The booms continue until a brown blur races past a tree and leaps onto me. I'm expecting a darkspawn, or some sort of creature. Wetness clings to my face as something soft rubs against it, soaking my entire face. I scream, but giggle at the same time. It tickles, especially when the wetness attaches to my hand and begins to rub against it. That's when I realize it isn't rubbing, but licking.

That it's not something, but a Mabari hound.

The dog continues to lick my face and I'm laughing even more. Elayna screams from behind me and the dog freezes, looking up at her and growling. I hear her stop screaming, and run away instead of doing anything helpful. With a sigh, I laugh one last time and slip from beneath the dog. My robes are very dirty, but I don't care. There's a _dog_ in front of me! From the looks of it, it might even be the Mabari that I helped back at Ostagar. He had been deathly sick, or so the Kennel Master had said. His master had died and the poor dog infected with darkspawn taint. To his request, I picked up a flower from the Wilds and delivered it to the Kennel Master. I assumed that the dog may have been killed after the battle, but I guess it didn't.

From behind, there are stomps and clattering of wood with metal. I look over my shoulder to see Alistair in the lead with Sten, Leliana, and Morrigan following behind him. _Right_ behind him is Elayna, who is shaking and gripping Alistair's arm. I roll my eyes and pat the dog on the head.

"Look, it's a dog!" I say, smiling brightly. Everyone relaxes, except for Elayna. I notice this and laugh. "What, are you scared of a dog?" I ask her, and she shakes her head briskly.

"No! It's just-"Elayna doesn't have time to speak, because the dog has noticed her and is growling again. She hides behind Alistair once more.

"A dog? Where did it come from?" Leliana asks. I shrug.

"This is the one I saved from Ostagar, I think. How he got here, I don't know." I say, looking down at the animal. Again, I'm not dog person. Living in Ferelden, that's a bit of an insult. I just…prefer felines over Mabari mutts like this one. But it is cute, I have to say…

"Are you going to keep it?" Alistair asks.

"I don't know. I don't even really like dogs…" I look down at the dog and he looks up at me. A whine escapes from his throat, high and innocent. Big puppy dog eyes stare into mine, and I feel vulnerable. "No! I'm sorry dog, but I don't like dogs. I like cats!"

Alistair shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "How can you be Fereldan and _not_ like dogs?" He laughs and I redden.

"I don't know! Ugh, just…Alistair, why don't you keep the dog? I don't want it!" I gesture for the dog to stand over by Alistair, but it stands put at my feet. It even gives a small growl at Alistair. Alistair looks at me and shrugs, an evil smile on his face.

"Seems you have to keep the dog. When a hound is imprinted to you, there's no turning back. I suggest you start liking dogs." Alistair smiles at me and Elayna peeks out from behind again. The dog meets her eyes and growls, low and long. Elayna gives a shriek and buries herself into Alistair's chest. I want to growl myself.

Looking down at the dog, I pat it lightly on the head again. The dog looks up at me.

"It seems we have one thing in common, my friend."


	17. Camp

I decided to name the dog Mischief, because oh how mischievous he was. Such activities that Mischief partook in ranged from placing dead animals in Morrigan's sack, in some way of telling her to eat more, to scaring Elayna's hair off.

I got to loving Mischief.

Sometimes I encouraged his mischief, but only when no one was looking. Morrigan didn't like Elayna either, so sometimes she joined in the shenanigans. But of course, she never told anyone about it. "I had no say in this…event. Blame the dog, blame Alistair…I do not care. As long as I do not take the blame." She would say, then wink at me and I would give a half giggle. We kind of got used to each other like that. Her acidic attitude and snarky comments sometimes annoyed me, but it wasn't that big of a deal, especially since we're getting to know each other better. Water under the bridge, or so I've heard the phrase go.

Leliana was on and off with my opinion of Elayna. From what I had seen, they had a simple relationship. Simple friends, and nothing more. The occasional outburst from Elayna that was annoying and chaos ensuing would win Leliana onto our side, Morrigan and mine, but the other part of the time she was more to liking Elayna. They would chat about the basic conversation starters: weather, the Blight, Mischief…and so on and so forth. At one point I overheard them talking about shoes. Leliana was telling Elayna about the uncomfortable but beautiful shoes from Orlais. Elayna would laugh in response and go on about her own shoe collection.

"I do not have much," she had said. "But I cherish every bit of it. Oh, I guess _cherished_. I haven't got anything anymore. Just the clothes on my back. And my dagger. Trusty daggers, yeah?" And then the conversation had changed from shoes to daggers, then daggers to killing. By then I had grown tired of eavesdropping on their conversation –curse my curiosity – and had left. Not before instructing Mischief to sneak up behind Elayna and then let out a loud bark, of course.

Sten was a different story when it came to Mischief or Elayna. He was quiet…tall, large and quiet. He didn't speak often, and when he did, it wasn't playful banter like the rest of us had. It was informative, or sounded informative anyway. Sten had no emotion, either. Or, at least I didn't think he had any emotion. The slightest tip of the brow or the wiggle of the corner of his lips didn't count. Not to me. However, I found that it was really the thought that counted. He was a genuine person, not a liar or a kiss-up, like a certain someone. His answers were usually short as well, leaving the conversation to go in a full circle before I would realize what had happened.

"Why were you in that cage, in Lothering?" I had asked.

"Waiting for my death. Or the darkspawn. Whichever would come first." He had responded.

"And you weren't lonely? Afraid?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No."

And with that conversation, I found Sten to be a very enjoyable Qunari. I'd get him to crack – to be my friend. One day.

Alistair was a great fan of Mischief and, sadly, Elayna. Of course, he didn't ogle at her or leach onto her side as she did to him. He simply tolerated her, and I credited him greatly for that. Mischief was good to Alistair, as he didn't do mischievous things to him as he did to the others. Alistair was more the joker to Mischief than Mischief to Alistair. I caught them chatting, if you can call whining and barking and growling talking. He would tease Mischief with things like being fed flesh, to which Mischief would whine, to things like how Mabari are like the proverb: 'Too smart to talk', to which Mischief would bark happily. It was entertaining to watch the two. Sometimes I wouldn't even say a thing to them when they were talking, but only stand and watch.

* * *

We spent a few days at camp before heading out to start our great mission. Alistair suggested we head to the Brecilian Forest first.

"It's relatively close," He noted, pointing at the map with one finger. I took note to the calluses and small scars that cut across his hand and fingers. It was almost like a web. "And while Redcliffe and Lake Calenhad are also fairly close, we might as well go from east to west. There's also Denerim…and a person I'm wishing to see." Alistair looked down suddenly. I perked up at this. A person?

"Who is this mysterious mystery, Alistair? An acquaintance? A former lover?" Leliana asked from the other end of the map. Alistair looked up in alarm; burned a half shade darker.

"No, No! None of that. It's a family member, actually. A sister. I was raised by the Arl, and my mother was a servant girl, but I was able to find that I have a sibling. Her name is Goldanna, and she lives in Denerim. If we can just take a quick stop there…?" Alistair looked up suddenly, staring at me in the eye. I looked around the area to see that everyone had their eyes on me, even Mischief. My face warmed and I took a few steps back, raising my hands in defense.

"Hey, wait—" I was stopped short by Leliana.

"Oh do not be modest, Fiona. You are the most leader-like than all of us combined! You have a backbone, and a heart as well. A day does not go by when you stop just to make sure we are all well, or encourage us to carry on. It would be best that you lead us." Leliana smiled at me and I couldn't help but redden even more.

Elayna piped up from her small area, in the vicinity of Alistair, "Yes! While we do not see eye to eye, you are very kind, Fiona. Maybe not all of the time, but a good amount. Maybe slightly smaller. Maybe—" Leliana cut her off with a short glare. Elayna gave a small, grumbled response but didn't add anything else to the discussion.

"You all make incredibly incoherent statements," Morrigan said, crossing her arms over her chest. "While you say meaningless things like bravery and kindness, there is more to that in what makes a leader. A leader must be quick-witted, clever, and able to keep her party in check and in good spirits," Morrigan was quiet for a moment. "And that is you, Warden." Morrigan looked away, but I could see that there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. I smiled a bit myself. As a mage in the circle tower, we could not hold titles. There were no royal mages, peasant mages, or foreign government mages. Every mage was simply…a mage. The fact that Morrigan had called me Warden, Grey Warden, gave me a new hope and a reliving that I'm not some bird stuck in her cage, left to twitter and flutter aimlessly.

The sense of pride is also that _Morrigan, _of all people, said this.

"If there is a vote for this, I do not wish to cast my vote. I only wish to voice my opinion." Morrigan quickly added, turning on her heel and heading to a small area of the camp. I smiled.

"…Anyway," Alistair followed Morrigan with his eyes for only a moment, snapping them back to me in a split second. "Obviously we all want you leader. Don't refuse, please? It's for the best."

The saliva in my throat seemed to clog as I attempted to process what they were saying. Me? Lead? I was never born a leader. I simply followed the leader. At the Circle, I followed the leader in our group of friends – who wasn't me. Way back at home, if I can even remember, I followed the leader – my father. I didn't try to lead in his place. That was Addis's job. All of my life I've done nothing but follow. In a troubling time like this, with even more stress than friends or family, why is it me who has to be the leader?

But maybe I can do it. Can I? Can I truly lead our growing group to gain allies and stop the Blight before Ferelden is swallowed up in a black, tainted hole?

There is a beat before I can look into everyone's eyes with a smile on my face. My hands shake and feel awfully clammy, but if I am to be leader, I can't show my nervousness.

"I-I'll do it." I stammer, but as the words process in my brain, I feel much more secure.

"I'll be our leader."

Leliana's face lights up and Alistair looks at me as if I've saved a small baby from the claws of a ravenous wolf. Elayna is giving me a smirk, but I can see the hatred storming in her eyes. She's terribly bad at hiding her feelings. Mischief barks happily, his thick tongue dripping saliva all over the outside of my hand. Sten is off to the side, not showing happiness or sadness, but only his straight face. It makes we wonder what goes on beyond whenever he stares like that. It isn't sad, but it seems…melancholy. The words are the same, but in this case, I feel as if melancholy is a better sort of sorrowful word than sadness.

"So, we will head to the Brecilian forest, as Alistair as suggested. Afterward I say we head to Denerim to stock up supplies afterward, then head westward and stop at the Circle of Magi," I pale only a bit at those words. "Then hit Redcliffe, and finally Orzammar. It'll be a long journey, I hope you all understand that," I take a break to look at them all. The strong morale seems to waft through the air like a sweet scent from a bakery. "But we can do it. Together."

As much as this moment seemed to come straight out of an adventure story full of cheesy endings and sappy romances, it felt sentimental…to say in the least. It may not to a passerby, or someone who doesn't understand. But in this moment, this one moment of peace and happiness…everything seems alright.

"Together." Alistair said, meeting my gaze. A thousand words transmitted through our eyes, and I don't think I've ever felt my heart leap quite like so. A small smile formed on his lips, the innocence of it making a red blush warm against my cheeks. I smiled back at him, the smile genuine and true.

"Together." Leliana said after Alistair, her smile meeting my eyes. I saw Elayna mutter something short of together. It was cheap, but I suppose the thought counted.

"Together!" Everyone shouted, including Sten even. While the group of six didn't make the sound so loud, the woods around us seemed to take the voices and bounce them back, making it seem like everyone we knew and loved wanted us to do this together. From her spot, I saw Morrigan mouth the words, a brief smile on her lips when she thought no one was watching.

* * *

A/N:

See, this here is an example of the filler chapters. I won't doubt it when I say its filler. Any sort of chapter when Fio and the party are at camp, it'll kind of be like what it is in the game: moments to answer unanswered questions during the quest, character relationship building, and some monumental moments that don't fit in with the main quest.

They'll be short, or they'll be long. It really depends on what's happened in the duration of the other chapters.

Just thought I'd let you know.

Oh, and sorry for not updating in so long. I've been busy, school-work, I just finished a musical at school, and other personal issues.

Oh yeah, and I'm going to do the typical said, added, remarked instead of says, adds, remarks, because it's confuzzling and I'm totally way too tired these days to note whether or not I'm using past or present tense.

Oh (Third time yo) I'll upload the next chapter **TOMORROW** as well. Can't leave you all with this lame-o!

Oh (Dear fourth) and I know that Fiona says that she and Alistair share 'a thousand words' just by looking at each other a number of times. Don't worry, that's planned. Kind of their romantic catch-phrase, but no one says it but her conscious.


	18. Nature of the Beast

"Halt, Shemlen."

The voice pours from somewhere in the trees that I can't see. Instantly I tense, gripping my staff with holding it out in front of me. A bit of ice breathes off of the top of it, showing that there is indeed magic attached to it. From behind me, I hear the rest of the party draw their weapons.

"I said, halt! Put down your weapons!" The voice said again.

"Do as they say," Leliana whispered from behind. "If you look deeply into the trees, there are elves ready to attack. With bows and arrows, may I add?" I nodded to her and narrow my eyes, peering deeper into the trees. Indeed, as she says, I can see figures rustling only slightly in the foliage. With a clearing of my throat, I place the staff in its holster behind my back, drawing the magic from the weapon and from myself and dispelling it. Just like when I grabbed my weapon, there are sounds as everyone else puts theirs away.

From behind a tree in front of us, its branches long and winding, an elf dressed in leather armor approaches with her bow drawn. Her blonde hair is drawn in a tight ponytail, exposing all of her dark tattoos. Her armor stops just at her chest, exposing her stomach and the light scars that scatter across it. From behind her, two other male elves appear with their own bows drawn.

"The Dalish have camped here. I suggest you leave quickly and easily." She said, her eyes narrowed at me.

"Actually, we've been looking for the Dalish," I said, but immediately regret it. She and the elves tensed. With a shaky sigh, I shake my head. "Put your weapons down – we aren't here to cause any trouble." I said, waving her down with my hand. The elf raises a brow, her eyes running long me and the rest of the group. Without another glance at our odd bunch, she drops her bow and gestures from the rest to do the same as her. While the weapons are down, I notice that all of the elves have their hands tight on the bows, waiting for the opportune moment to strike us down.

"Really?" She scoffed, giving a look of disbelief. "A group of Shem and a Qun looking for the Dalish? What business have you with us, then? It better be good."

Just because she said that, I feel even more obligated to prove her arrogant self that we are worthwhile. _Be thoughtful_, a voice in the back of my head reminds me. _These are Dalish – they are as numb to the outside world as Morrigan, or even yourself. Give them the benefit of the doubt_. I can't help but agree with the submissive sub-conscious. "I am a Grey Warden, and we request to speak to your leader."

The elf narrows her eyes even more, placing a hand on her hip. "Grey Warden? What makes you think I can believe that?"

"Well, many people don't go around pretending to be Grey Wardens, now do they?" A small laugh escaped my throat as I spoke, a haughty exterior covering the shaking little girl inside. I was never good with people, ever. It is surprising, seeing as I've had no troubles outside of the Circle with speaking and making conversation with others. Even so, I'm just not good with saying the right things at the right time. I either always say something awfully rude or shamefully nice. _Nice hair_, I'd say to someone, and they'd immediately rush out crying. _Didn't you hear_? Someone would sneer, _she just found out that her Grandparents have both died at the hands of a mage, like herself. Why would you say something like that?_ To which I'd be both equally confused and equally shamed.

"I…" The elf paused for a moment, catching her words. "I suppose that is true. Very well, I shall take you to my leader. But remember, Shem: we have our eyes on you. You attempt anything, _anything_, and we will not hesitate to shoot you down. Follow me." She hissed, turning on her heel. I give a look over my shoulder to everyone. Alistair shrugs at me, Elayna at his hip. I want to shrug back, smile back, laugh back, but I can't. Not with _her_ right there. So, I sigh instead and hide a grumble in my throat.

As we trek through the forest, I take note to the beauty and splendor of the Brecilian Forest. The way the sunlight filters through the tops of the green trees, and lightly dusts the ground. Darkspawn are no doubt in these forests, but it seems in this part, there is no sign of neither them nor their taint. The plants loft down with giant leaves that shade against the weather. The branches of the trees reach across to each other and intertwine, making some sort of cross-stitch puzzle above us. It's beautiful, and I don't think I can say anything else about it.

But, the beauty ends when the visible signs of the taint show. In some spots there are patches of just darkness, even if there is light on it. Trees affected are gnarled, old and aged, their bark a sad grey color and peeling off. Leaves have drooped and are not as green and alive as the others. In fact, they're almost black.

Somewhere in the shadows, the trees rustle. While it is a forest, perfectly right to be full of wildlife, the gnawing pain in my stomach tells me that whatever is in the bush isn't a harmless creature.

Finally, after much walking, we reach what appears to be the Dalish Camp. Several Dalish elves run around, doing chores or carrying bundles of…bloody clothes? My blood ices when I see this, but I shake it away when the elf who had approached us in the forest directs us to an elf with no hair, but the very same style of dark tattoos swimming across his face. A twisted staff hung onto his yellow robes.

"Guests, I see," He says, drumming his fingers on his arm as he crosses them. "Mithra, you do understand the importance of the matters at hand?" He turns to the blonde elf. She clenches her fists at her sides and gives a tight nod.

"Yes, Keeper, I do understand."

"Then you must also understand that we have little patience for outsiders." Mithra pales but regains her composure.

"The Shemlen leader says that she is a Grey Warden and wishes to speak with our clan. I thought it would be best to leave them to you." Mithra says, giving another tight nod. The Keeper is silent for a moment, but then nods and places one of his hands beneath his chin in a casual stance. I watch both of them, eagerly awaiting an answer.

"And thought best you did. _Ma serannas_, Mithra. You may return to your post." The Keeper said.

"_Ma nuvenin, _Keeper." Mithra gives a small bow and turns, her elven archers following behind her as they leave. Finally, all attention is directed back to us. While I'd like to have a conversation directly with the Keeper and have all my attention on it, I can't help but notice the severity of the way the other Dalish run around. They carry bundles of herbs, clothes or other things and brush from place to place, alive with energy. Something is wrong, very wrong.

"…I am Zathrian, the keeper of the clan; its guide and leader. Who are you, exactly? Mithra says you claim to be Grey Wardens, but I wish to hear the truth." Zathrian had been saying a few words, I can tell, but I wasn't listening. I snap my head focus on him, processing the words. Zathrian, this man, is the keeper of the clan. This is the person we need to speak to.

"I am Fiona, and it is a pleasure to meet you Zathrian. These are my companions. We are indeed Grey Wardens…but only two of us are." I say, only because manners will no doubt get you far. If someone is rude to someone else, then the other one is happy to be rude right back. If one is kind to another, then the other may be kind to the one. In some way it all works together.

"A Shemlen with manners? Remarkable," Zathrian gives a slight smirk. "As you are Grey Wardens, what have you come here for? To spread news of the Blight?"

"Well—" I start, but he stops me short.

"No need. I have already sensed the corruption within the forest. The Blight is at hand, and it is no news to us. We would have moved north, but as you can tell, we are in no position to do so." Zathrian gestures over his shoulder at some cots that I hadn't noticed before. With another wave of his hand, he shows us over. Elves, both half living and half dead, lay bleeding on the cots. Screams of agony and sorrow rip from their throats, filling the air with a terrible sound. Some have faces mangled and ripped to the point of being unrecognizable, while others have mere scratches and gashes. One of them has only one arm, the other a bloody stump eroded with pus and goo. I feign a gag at the sight, placing one hand over my mouth. I feel a hand on my back and flinch a bit, only to peek over my shoulder and see Alistair looking at me concerned. He seems a bit green, so I pressure a smile and wave him off.

"Oh, Ma-I mean, what has happened? Why do your people lay half dead?" I ask from beneath my hand, ever so curious. Zathrian looks down, his face a mix of sadness and hate.

"It is the werewolves." He simply says, not bothering to look me in the eye. I perk up at the sound of this. Werewolves? I'd only heard small bits and pieces of folklore surrounding the idea of werewolves running around Ferelden. I've never believed it. They were only books, or so I thought. Now it seems they have come to life, living characters off of a page.

"Werewolves?" Elayna pipes up from behind. "There are true werewolves in the Brecilian Forest? Werewolves have attacked…but why? How?" She seems very curious about the subject, almost like myself. The tone in her voice…it seems a bit sensitive as well. As if this strikes close to home. But it shouldn't, not as far as I know. As she told us, Arl Howe's men killed her family, not werewolves.

Suddenly, a light went off in my head. Like a candle, it seemed to flicker and dim before solidifying in my brain.

What if my family was murdered by werewolves?

The damage would make sense…seeing as my mother was mangled, as were my siblings. They looked as if they were scratched and beat, killed in the most painful way. As I stare down at these living bodies of elves, they look eerily similar to the bodies. Could it be possible? Did werewolves kill my family? Could they?

"…They ambushed us," Zathrian's voice cuts through my thoughts like a sword. I jump, caught off guard. Oh, Maker, perhaps I should listen more often. I seem to be missing the most important things that Zathrian has to say. It is disrespectful, and I don't know why I keep doing it. I suppose it is just the idea that I might be one stop closer, after so _many_ years, as to finding my family's murderer. "We fought our hardest, but it was not enough. Most of our warriors died, and some as we speak in the outlying forest," Zathrian looks down, horror displaying clearly on his face. He bends down to one of the cots and puts a glowing hand on a wounded elf, who trembles beneath the touch. "Even with all of our magic and healing, it is not enough. What they have is without an easy cure…and at one point we will have to slay our brethren to prevent them into turning…into the very beasts that have cursed them."

Zathrian mutters a silent prayer to the wounded elf and stands, dispelling the magic and turning back around to us.

"So, as you can see, we cannot help you. I can only assume you came in the first place in the name of the centuries old treaties…but we are unable to uphold our end of the deal. I am truly sorry. Right now, we must cure our own before tending to the Blight." Zathrian bows his head, looking truly sorry. I bow my own head, feeling a bit of pity rising in my throat.

"It is our own fault for not knowing your troubles. While the evidence is clear that you can't aid in our plans to end the Blight, is there any way we can help accelerate any sort of healing?" I ask, a small smile growing on my face.

"You also mentioned that there was no easy cure," Alistair spoke up from behind. "So does that mean that there is a hard cure out there?"

Zathrian is silent for a moment, as if he is contemplating on what to say next. Finally, he clears his throat to speak. "Yes, as you say a _hard_ cure. Within the Brecilian Forest is the great wolf, Witherfang as we call him. Witherfang is the origin of the curse, the very root that holds it together, like a tall oak tree. If you can kill Witherfang and bring his heart to me, I have hopes of destroying the curse and ending it. I would send able hunters of our clan…but the ones that I have sent weeks ago have not returned. I cannot risk any others." Zathrian moves us away from the dying elves and back to the large tent near the entrance of the camp.

"I suppose we might as well attempt to find this Witherfang for you. Without it, we can't gain your assistance in the Blight." I say, firmly staying to my decision. It's not like we can just walk out on them. These poor people…dying. These innocent elves…we can't just let them die.

"I will warn you, however," Zathrian says, looking out into the woods. "That there are creatures aside from werewolves that lurk in the forest. Spirits, darkspawn…the list goes on. It would be best that when you enter, you be on your guard. I can supply you with some equipment from Master Varathorn, if needed. For now, this is all of the assistance I can give to you. Please, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. Thank you, Grey Wardens." Zathrian gives a short bow, similar to the one that Mithra had given him earlier. I mock the bow, doing so in the most respectable way possible.

My group and I head off into a separate part of the camp. We must plan out what we will do.

"Alright, friends. It seems we have werewolves on our hands. I think the best course of action is to not send all of us into the forest at once. We should split the group, three staying at camp to help with whatever they can and the other four heading into the woods to seek Witherfang."

Alistair spoke very quickly after my short speech. "I nominate myself to stay." I raised a brow at him, questioning his decision.

"Alistair," I kept my brow raised. "You are a skilled fighter, no doubt great to fight whatever is in the forest. It would be selfish if you to stay here!" My words sound a bit harsh, but they are true as well. Alistair is a great fighter (and a great person), so why would he want to stay?

"I just…" He paused for a moment. "I just feel that I will be of greater help here than there. You're good with healing, Fiona, so you'd probably stay here. If I'm sent out there, I'd probably have to do the leading! I'm not good at leading! Bad things happen when I lead!" Alistair pleads with me, and I can't help but give in to his puppy dog eyes. Not even Mischief can beat those.

"Fine." I say, crossing my arms. "Morrigan, Sten and I will head out into the Forest. Mischief, Leliana, Alistair and Elayna, you will stay here." But, the second I say those words, I regret them. Elayna squeals and hugs Alistair tightly around the waist.

"Oh, yay! I get to stay with _you_ Alistair!" She screeches, pressing her pretty face into his arm. My face burns a deep red and I give a loud shout to get her attention.

"Just kidding," I hesitantly laugh. "Four in the forest and three here. Elayna, you're coming with us. No ifs, ands or buts." I quickly say and turn on my heel to get away before my face melts off from all the heat. There is no doubt in my mind that from that demand that it will begin to surface that I have feelings for Alistair…or something along those lines. I just hope no one truly figures it out.

"Andraste's linens! I really wanted to stay with you Alistair!" I hear Elayna whine, and then the sound of Alistair giving a forced sigh.

"What a shame. But that's alright, you'll do fine out there." He says, but I can hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"Oh, I know you will always have belief in me!" She swoons, and I feel sick to my stomach.

"Does anyone else feel the need to vomit? No? Just me?" Morrigan says, forcing a small giggling out of my churning insides.


	19. What you've been waiting for

3rd Person POV:

Sten, Morrigan, Fiona and Elayna

Damp leaves brushed themselves against the hair, armor and skin of the four. Sten, the largest of them all, wasn't bothered at all by the wet leaves, and simply continued to walk on. Morrigan was slightly bothered, as she would occasionally swipe at the leaves before they made contact. Occasional groans and mumbles came from her lips whenever the leaves hit her and left a sharp, wet slap. Fiona, the other mage, seemed to follow in the tolerance line. A little more bothered than Morrigan, Fiona would use her staff to poke and prod at the leaves and hold them back. Every once in a while she would 'accidentally' release the branch before Elayna could pass through, resulting in the smallest female to let out a squeal and a whine.

"Oh, Fiona, do wait for me before you drop the branch! I don't like getting wet!" The girl would cry out, and Fiona would roll her eyes.

"I do apologize, Elayna. Forgive me," The blonde would add a dramatic flaunt to her words. Elayna would fume and there would be an even longer period of silence.

It continued like that until the group found their first darkspawn grouping.

A round hill rounded off at their left, covered by thick, brown trunks and green leaves sprouting from the branches. As they walked past, Fiona felt her nose tingle and an odd sensation run through her body. Before she could say anything, three or four darkspawn and a handful of werewolves popped out from behind the trees.

"Be ready!" Fiona shouted to the group as everyone unsheathed their weapons. Fiona let out a flame ball toward the area that would be most populated by the rushing opponents. Just as she planned out, the ball exploded in a fiery explosion and knocked the group off of their feet. Some already burned to death, but the others jumped back to their feet and continued forward. While Fiona issued more spells with Morrigan at her side, Sten and Elayna slashed their great-sword and daggers at the beasts. Elayna found the throat of a darkspawn slashed by her own blade before she could blink. With a haughty smirk, the noble gave a few spins as she lashed out her daggers and caught the body parts of several enemies. A small giggle forced itself out of her throat, and distracted her from the looming, furry beast that was running on all four legs toward her.

The werewolf hit Elayna at full speed, knocking her over and causing her to roll down the hill and hit the trunk of a tree. She let out a moan, her spine temporarily paralyzed from the blow. The werewolf ran up to her and sat up on its hind legs, staring down at her with razor sharp teeth. Before it could lunge, a silver great-sword sung through the air and chopped the head off of the wolf. The body and head tumbled to the ground. Elayna breathed deeply as she looked from the body to Sten, and then back again. Sten glared down at her.

"If you wanted to be in the battle so badly, why do you fall like a handful of sand? This is why women do not fight." He uttered no other words to Elayna, only turning on his heel and raising his sword high above his head. Elayna pouted, struggling to get to her feet just as a Genlock appeared out of thin air, a rogue no doubt, with its small weapons high in the air. Elayna's eyes narrowed as she stuck out a foot and kicked the darkspawn out of her way and into a nearby tree. From her belt, she grabbed a dagger and sent it soaring. It hit the Genlock right in the forehead, causing the beast to give a jerk before becoming still.

Within moments, and only few fatal wounds, all darkspawn and werewolves were dead. An ogre could be seen further down the rolling mountain, but no one dared to approach it. They were already mostly damaged.

Morrigan and Fiona issued healing spells to the group, sealing all gashes and repairing broken bones. When everyone was decent, they trudged on. Just before they could pass by a roaring waterfall, they were stopped by three werewolves. The creatures sprinted on all fours, coming to a slow stop in front of the group. In front of two werewolves was a particularly tall one. It seemed to tower over even Sten.

The werewolf growled, eyeing the group. "It seems, brothers and sisters, that the watchers were correct. A human! The Dalish have interesting ways of vengeance."

Fiona wet her lips as she contemplated the quick and right thing to say. These were monsters; beasts that slaughtered innocent Dalish. "And who are you to be so bold as to speak of me as if I am not here. Answer! Or I will resort to other ways of getting information." Fiona spoke confident, sticking her chin up slightly.

The head werewolf only arched its back and let out a low growl. "I am Swiftrunner, leader of my cursed brothers and sisters," Swiftrunner gave another growl. "Turn, run back to the Dalish and say that you have failed."

"Failed?" Fiona scoffed, folding both arms over her chest. "Why, I haven't even told you why we're here. For all that you know, we could be taking simple walks in the wood."

From behind Fiona, Elayna gave her a short pinch in the arm. "Is it best to be rude to these beasts? They are savage and feral…they could kill us in seconds!" Elayna pleaded but Fiona waved her away, as she always does.

"Feral? Savage? These aren't wild animals, Cousland. If they were wild, they would not be able to speak to us as they do." Fiona gave another scoff, shoving Elayna back to her place: behind the leader. Swiftrunner watched the short scene with a somewhat bemused expression on his face.

"Enough! You will turn back, or we will attack with all that we have to drive you out." Swiftrunner snarled, edging forward on his paws. Fiona held her composure, keeping her chin high even if her heart raced in her chest.

"Will you stop the threats? I want only to talk. The Dalish may say things, but you can clearly say things as well." Fiona gave a quiet swallow. Swiftrunner could only let out a small roar and race toward her, his snout very nearly touching her face. Fiona held her breath as she watched Swiftrunner bare his teeth in her face.

"The only thing that you wish to say is a war-cry before you rip out our lady's heart. We will NOT let you do that." He roared in her face, the dank breath blowing her hair back and out of her face. Fiona was glad she held her breath. Swiftrunner stood up straight, showing his height to be at least double that of the puny human.

"I give you one more warning. Leave human, or face your doom!" Swiftrunner bellowed before falling onto his paws and racing off with the two other werewolves right on his tail. Fiona still had her breath held as she stood there, her eyes wide and her pulse racing. Morrigan edged closer, poking Fiona lightly in the arm.

"Fiona? Why do you look as if you have been petrified?" Morrigan asked. It seemed those were the magic words, as Fiona shook herself and regained her natural warmth and liveliness. A large grin sat on her face as she turned to the group, and then pointed to where the werewolves had run off to.

"It seems we have some werewolves to catch. If they don't want to talk, we'll make them talk!" Fiona gleefully exclaimed, acting as if it was a large, wrapped present waiting for her to open. She turned and prepared to run after them, but Elayna lunged forward and grabbed her arm. Fiona held her tongue to not curse out the smaller girl.

"Talk? We were told to only go into the forest to take Witherfang's heart. We will not talk to those…savages. It would be suicide!" Elayna pleaded, but Fiona shook her head.

"I am the leader, and I have decided we will follow after the wolves and get them to talk. I want to hear the other half of the story…and why it is so dangerous to go deeper into the forest." Fiona snarled in such a way that it wouldn't be surprising if she and the werewolves were related. Elayna shook her head, latching more firmly onto Fiona's arm. She dragged the mage to the ground and sat down, not wanting to stand up.

"I'm not moving an inch until you confirm that we are only going to take Witherfang's heart." Elayna announced, turning her head to the side so that she may not look at Fiona. Fiona, on the other hand, was boiling like a pot of hot water.

"You incompetent, infantile brat! How dare you-"

"And, if we don't do what we were told, I will run back to camp and say that you have allied yourself with the werewolves and plan to wipe out the Dalish." Elayna smirked and Fiona's eyes bulged out of her head. She clenched her fist to stop from screaming.

"You're kidding with me, aren't you? You wouldn't do that," Fiona grouched, "Right?"

Elayna tilted her chin up, a smug look on her face. "I very much would," She admitted. "If it was all that was needed to convince you to smarten up."

Fiona fumed. "SMARTEN UP?" She shouted, "Smarten up? You've got to be kidding me now. I'm trying to take a more diplomatic and SMART approach to this, unlike you. You are saying that we shouldn't even spare these beasts the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they ambushed the Dalish for a reason." Fiona twisted her arm, freeing of it of Elayna's grasp.

Elayna stuck out her tongue and shook her head, like a small child. Fiona's face bloomed a bright red as her eyebrows knitted together.

"You act as if you are a small child," Sten inquired. "Yet you are full grown. Why is this? Do you have no discipline in your life?" Fiona looked over at the Qunari, a big smile on her face once again.

"She acts like that because she _doesn't_ have any discipline. I suppose I might as well do it. Stand up! _Now_." Fiona barked. Taken by surprise, Elayna hopped to her feet. Why she listened to the mage, she'll never know.

Before Elayna could ask why she was commanded to stand up, Fiona recoiled her fist and used all of the force she possessed to punch Elayna straight across the face. Elayna let out a scream, and before any other words could be spoken, her eyelids fluttered shut and she hit the ground. Hard.

There was a stretch of silence, no one saying a thing.

Then, Fiona laughed.

"Wow," She gasped, shaking her knuckles. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." Fiona looked down at the still, but breathing, figure of the noble Cousland on the forest ground. Fiona poked her lightly with her foot in the side. Elayna's face was blooming a large, red print in the shape of Fiona's fist. Noticing this, Fiona bent down to run her fingers over the red mark.

"Wow." She said again. Sten and Morrigan watched in silence. They could only watch. Morrigan was trying her hardest not to laugh. Fiona let out another laugh before she became serious.

"Well, that was a mistake, wasn't it? Now we've got this heavy load. If we leave her, she might get eaten or kidnapped. I'd get murdered for that. Err…I could put a sleep spell on her and we store her in a small hole, cave or bush. Or we could carry her. Sten, would you mind?" Fiona placed both hands on her hips as she stared up at the Qunari. Sten gave a brisk nod, still not saying a word. He bent down and grabbed the maiden, carrying her in his arms. Elayna gave a pained noise when she was lifted, but then was restored to silence.

"If we run across any enemies, just drop her. She won't mind a few extra bruises. Or a few extra hours passed out." Fiona tapped her finger to her chin. Then, without another word, the group continued on.


	20. Meanwhile

3rd person POV cont'd:

Mischief, Alistair and Leliana

Time went by at a slow, hurtful pace. Alistair noted this once he watched Fiona head out into the forest with the Qunari, the witch and Elayna. His eyes followed her form as far as he could, until the green trees swallowed her up. Afterwards he felt…empty. Was it just that there wasn't Morrigan delivering insults to a spot of sunshine? Elayna clutching his side with the strength of ten men? (But he didn't miss that—at all.)

_No, it's Fiona that I miss._ He told himself as he tended to the sick elves around the camp. _I miss her. I care for her a great deal_. He continued to tell himself this and was blissfully unaware when Leliana snuck up behind him and put one of her hands on his shoulder. Alistair jumped, caught off guard. Leliana gave a small giggle, but wiped it away with one look at his face.

"I can…" He wanted to explain: to say why he was looking so forlorn.

"No need," Leliana said, putting up one hand. A slow smirk grew on her face. "It has been very evident since the beginning."

Alistair paled. "E-Evident? What has been evident?" He played dumb, innocent. Leliana scoffed, giving him a light punch in the arm.

"Do not play idiot, Alistair. Morrigan may say that you do not play idiot – you are an idiot, but I don't believe that. You are smart and you know what is right and what is wrong. I am also sure that you know when your feelings have come to the surface." She smiled at him, showing that she was here to help. Alistair shook his head, nonetheless. He turned from her and faced the writhing elf with a large bite-mark on his arm. It was gooey and leaking puss and blood. _Oh, Maker_, Alistair inwardly groaned. Leliana made a noise.

"Alistair, please, listen to me! I know about love. I understand when you can get so wrapped up in it that it hurts you. That is not bad! I can help you through it, however, so that it does not hurt so badly!" Leliana pleaded, but Alistair shook his head again. Why did Leliana insist on butting in his love life? So what if he liked a particular blonde mage? What was the harm in that? Was she dangerous? (Yes.) Was she trouble? (Yes.) Was she tough? (Yes.)

"I still don't know what you're talking about Leliana." Alistair said, not looking her in the eye. Leliana fidgeted, but then gave up in the end and let out a sigh.

"Fine. But if you need any help…"

"Yes, yes. I know to find you. Thank you and goodbye." Alistair said, rather blunt. He considered apologizing to her for being harsh, but before he could say anything, she was already gone. Alistair sighed, wrapping a bandage around the elf's arm. The elf struggled, sweating and panting like an animal. Alistair grimaced as he finished wrapping the injury. Glad to be done, Alistair almost broke into a run to escape the hospice.

There was a nice, flat log waiting for him by a roaring fire. When he sat down, some elves shifted uncomfortably away from him. Alistair grumbled to himself, something about being rude, and avoided any of the looks that the other Dalish gave him. Instead, he chose to reflect on his own thoughts and his own feelings. The biggest one on his mind was that of the illustrious Fiona Amell.

Fiona was a beautiful young woman, one who was confident and very easy to read. However, that could be an understatement while also being an overestimate. Sometimes, when she blushed, it was when she was flustered or upset. Other times it was when she was embarrassed or being flirty. A good portion of the time, however, she was just blushing. She could have an extreme deadpan gaze, but be blushing like a blighted war ground. That seemed to be what drew Alistair into her. He noticed that when she wasn't looking at him, he was looking at her. The way her blonde, short hair curved around her face and framed it. The way her eyes glinted when she was a mixture of emotions.

But he didn't just like her for her face. No, he liked her for who she was. As Elayna was unable to comprehend, Alistair thought Fiona was just dandy. She was confident, a perfect leader, but also very fragile. Sometimes, when she was upset, she just looked so…breakable. He would want to hold her in his arms and keep her safe, tell her that she won't break. But then she'd put on a straight face and approach the issue with a mask of courage. For instance, when they ran into Elayna and her lady-in-waiting-guard. He told her to be careful, and for a fraction of a second, he thought that she was considering his advice. But then she just brushed him off, saying that she was fine.

He liked that brave girl.

Elayna, it seemed, was convinced that Alistair liked the kind of girl that needed saving. A damsel in distress. Or, at least, that was what she thought in the beginning. It seemed that she was catching on, and watching his interactions with Fiona. Elayna was struggling to become more independent, as it seemed, and a better fighter and a confident choice-chooser. Fiona fit that description to a T. So was that why Elayna was trying so hard, but failing with flying colors?

_Andraste's flaming sword…I'm really falling for this girl, aren't I? I'm convinced that another girl who has it for me is trying to be her. It makes sense, though. The way we look at each other…the words we say. Oh, Maker…_

Alistair buried his head in his hands, breathing deeply into his own flesh. However, he found that even if he smelled deeply into his hands, waiting for the scent of death, leather and injury, he got the sweet smell that only Fiona emitted. It was like lavender, but there was also a clean smell to it. It got his nerves on high whenever he smelled it. _Yeah, I'm definitely falling for her_, Alistair told himself, not at all amused. But then again…he kind of was. In the Chantry, there had been nothing but old women there. When he was small, he had no younger girls to interact with. He was new to this…love.

With a smirk, Alistair ran a hand through his hair. _First time falling in love, and it's the ex-templar falling in love with the mage. How ironic_. He snorted mentally.

With a sigh, Alistair stood up. He stretched a bit, seeing as the short sitting session was far longer than he would have imagined. Looking around, he noted Lanaya, the Keeper's first, heading toward him. Deciding it would be better to meet in the middle, Alistair stepped over the log and briskly walked to meet with Lanaya.

"You, companion of the Warden…" Lanaya started, "Do you know her closely?" Alistair was caught off guard a bit. He teetered on his own legs, stabilizing himself after a split second of comprehending what Lanaya asked.

"You could say I do… But-" Lanaya cut him off.

"How is her loyalty? Does she keep her word? Pledge loyalty?" Lanaya narrowed her eyes. Alistair had to think for a moment. Fiona was pretty truthful…the only lies coming when Elayna was in the vicinity. In all the time he had met her, from Ostagar to now, she seemed to be loyal. In Ostagar there had been that starving traitor. Alistair wouldn't have given the man a second glance, but Fiona went right up to the dirty man and asked what had happened. When he asked for food, she helped him, and stuck through it. In other times, she stuck to her word. In all, she was pretty loyal.

"Err…yes, she is loyal. Sticks to her word quite often, actually. A day doesn't go by when Fiona promises some new thing to some stranger. This one time—" Alistair was about to start a story, but Lanayda held up a hand to silence him.

"While I am not one to pass on stories, I do not have time for it. The Dalish's lives may be at stake." Lanaya paled as she said this, her hands wringing together. Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"At stake? How?"

"Zathrian was suspicious of the Warden and sent some hunters to watch after her and report back anything unusual. Well, they have returned, and they say startling news.

"The Warden has sided with the werewolves and not only plans on wiping out the Dalish, but we have been told that she also incapacitated her allies. One of the hunters said she punched the smaller girl across the face." Lanaya sighed and Alistair stared, his mouth wide open. Fiona? Siding with the werewolves. _Impossible_, he thought, running a hand through his hair.

"The hunters must have seen wrong. Fiona…she would never do that. Punch Elayna, maybe, but let innocent people die? No, that's not her." Alistair muttered, anxiously looking around. Lanaya looked down, her fists clenched around her staff.

"I understand this may be hard to hear, seeing as you know the Warden personally. But…she is untrustworthy. Zathrian asked me to round up her companions to go with him into the forest and stop the Warden before she succeeds in killing the Dalish. Please, tell me you will agree to this." Lanaya pleaded, staring up and into Alistair's eyes. He paled slightly, realizing that _he_ was the leader now that Fiona was away. This was exactly what he didn't want. However, if Fiona had become corrupt, he was the only one close enough to her to either bring her down softly or convince her otherwise. With a sigh, Alistair nodded swiftly, looking down at Lanaya.

"We will do it. I…I just can't believe Fiona would do such a thing. It's horrifying…" Alistair mused and Lanaya could only give a sympathetic look.

"Thank you…" She trailed off, asking for a name.

"Alistair." He said.

"Ah, well thank you Alistair. Please grab your friends and meet Zathrian near the entrance to the deeper wood in a few moments," Lanaya paused as if to end, but she reached out a hand. "Wait! I ask only one thing, Alistair. Please, do whatever to keep the clan safe. Innocent people should not die."

Alistair nodded swiftly, turning on his heel to find Leliana and Mischief. He spotted Leliana tending to a small child with a large bite wound on their abdomen. The child elf winced and whimpered whenever Leliana applied pressure.

"It is alright. The pain will go away soon." The Orlesian said, brushing stray hairs out of the small child's face. The child smiled, but still grimaced.

"Leliana?" Alistair called out, and the red head whirled around. She raised a brow at Alistair and patted the child lightly on the head before rushing over.

"Have you changed your mind? Do you wish to talk?" She hounded him, a smirk growing on her face. Alistair shook his head, a sad look crossing his face. Leliana noted this and immediately dropped it.

"It's…Fiona." He murmured. Leliana's eyes widened.

"What happened?"

"She…Fiona has become corrupt. The elves say they saw her conspiring with the werewolves and that she plans to take their side and wipe out the clan. Zathrian and Lanaya asked us to go into the forest with him to stop her before she manages to kill them." Alistair looked down, his chest stinging. In his mind, he remembered the bright, blonde mage who would always smile at him or blush indefinitely. Her smile etched into his brain, but as he spoke, the image distorted and her smile grew until it touched the tips of her ears. It was a horrifying sight, and Alistair squeezed his eyes open and closed to try and make it disappear.

"She plans to what?! Are they sure? Did they get incorrect information! Alistair…we know Fiona. She would not do such a thing!" Leliana pressured, wringing her own hands together, like Lanaya had only moments ago. Alistair nodded.

"They saw it with their own eyes."

Leliana looked down, hugging herself as she struggled to think of why Fiona would do such a thing.

"It appears we must go, then. Fiona must be stopped. I never thought she would be so…evil." Leliana whispered. Alistair lay a friendly hand around her shoulder and gave her a tight hug. It wasn't intimate and it wasn't foreign. It was comforting.

"It appears we must. We might have to—"

"Kill her?"

"Yes."

They stood there in silence. Mischief joined their side, a low whine coming out of his throat. It seemed the Mabari knew something was wrong. Whether the wrong thing was correct or incorrect seemed to debate across all three companion's minds. Was Fiona truly evil? Did the Dalish misread what they saw?


	21. Acorn

3rd person POV:

Sten, Morrigan, Fiona and Elayna

The group was silently trudging on for what felt like hours. Fiona had been sure that the werewolves had gone one way…and then the other. She would tell the others that she saw a blur of fur over to the left, and then see it to the right. It was all terribly confusing and it was also terribly irritating.

"That's it!" She shouted, halting. "I can't take this anymore. These werewolves clearly don't want to be found. We'll have to ask around." She massaged her temples, groaning inwardly.

"Ask around? This isn't a blighted mass-populated town! It's the dense, un-populated forest!" Elayna shouted, moaning several times. Fiona's head snapped toward the small female still lying in Sten's arms. Elayna was rubbing the sore spot of her cheek and her swollen jaw. She made a noise whenever she hit the tender spot. "Oh, and I don't appreciate you hitting me like that, Fiona. Not very nice." Elayna muttered.

Fiona shrugged, raising her hands in defense. "You just got on my last nerve, so I had to do something! It was stupid of me to hit you, I apologize… _Not really_." Fiona murmured the last part under her breath. Elayna narrowed her eyes before simply huffing and tilting her chin up.

"Apology not accepted. Well, anyway, back to the matter at hand...How in Andraste's name are we going to find someone to ask where the werewolves are? For one, I doubt anyone will give up where the murdering, monstrous beasts are, and for two, I doubt anyone will KNOW where they are." Elayna said before giving a shout as she was dropped by Sten. She glared up at him, and Sten only shrugged.

"You were not lazily asleep any longer, so you can handle yourself." He said, causing Elayna to give a disgruntled groan. She stood up, brushing the dirt off of her legs and stomach. With one last pat, she whirled around to face Fiona, who was in deep thought. Fiona tapped a finger to her chin as she thought.

"Well, you make a good point there, Elayna. But I'm pretty sure we know. I think they're in the center of the forest, since that fog kept taking us back to where we started. It must be a spell of some sort…so we have to get through it. That fog…yes, it must be! It makes sense, don't you think?" Fiona looked around, hoping to gain looks of encouragement from her party members. "Yes, yes. We'll look for some way to get past the fog."

So it was decided, and the group headed forward. While pursuing whatever might lead them through the fog, they ran into several werewolves, Blight wolves and Sylvan Trees. Fiona found herself slightly frightened by the walking, fighting tree. The long, spindly limbs would wrap themselves around her legs and left her in the air, shaking her like some sort of doll. The whole shaking would be nauseating, but her fear kept her awake. Then it would be either her own wits, Morrigan, or Sten that came to her rescue.

At one point, it seemed that for every foot they walked a new tree came to life. The group killed each tree that threatened them, just until they came across a large tree that looked the same, but nothing like the others. It twisted to life. The party prepared their weapons, waiting to strike. The tree untwisted itself and stretched out its arms and legs, then stood up straight. The tree was at least ten feet tall, maybe even more.

"Hmm…What manner of beast be thee that comes before this Elder tree?" The tree rhymed, earning a bit of a laugh from both Morrigan and Fiona. Elayna gave a chuckle, if it was even classified under the lack of noise she made.

"You rhyme? A rhyming tree? How is that possible?" Fiona scoffed. The Elder tree swayed with the wind.

"How do I speak? The same as you. I form the words and sound them true. However mine, if I may confine, do rhyme and won't stop with passing time," The tree said. "Now I have answered a query of thine, but thou hast yet to answer mine."

"How do we know you won't attack us?" Elayna piped up, earning a shove in the arm by Fiona.

The tree looked down as if ashamed. "Ah, thou speakest of the others, how filled they are with hate? I apologize on their behalf, I cannot control their fate."

_Fate_? Fiona thought as she comprehended the tree's words. "Fate? The werewolves were created to be monsters like these?" It seemed like a stupid question in Elayna's eyes. Everyone knew how werewolves became. Someone cursed a group of humans as beasts and then the beasts scratched and attached to other humans and turned them. It seemed that Fiona didn't know this. Elayna smirked. _It seems I know more than you, mage_.

"Yes of course, they came to be. The werewolves, as thou may see, possess some human qualities. They speak and feel and have emotions; their hearts are set and roll in motion." The Elder tree said and Fiona nodded, understanding.

"Ah, but before we go on, I have not introduced myself, as you have yourself. Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder tree. And unless thou thinkest it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?" The Grand Oak asked, earning a raised brow from Fiona. Why would the tree want a boon?

"Could you tell me what you know of the forest…perhaps the impenetrable fog in the center?" Fiona asked, and caught herself. How rude to simply ignore the Grand Oak's request? "Oh, and yes we'll let you ask of the boon. I apologize for diverting the topic."

The Grand Oak nodded, its skeletal face seeming to roll its jaw as it thought. The tree raised a long fingered hand and traced its fingers along its chin. "Perform the boon as I ask, and I shall reward thee for the task." The Grand Oak continued to stare down at the group. Fiona looked over her shoulder to consult with the group. As per usual, Morrigan couldn't care less to what they wanted to do, but she only ask that they don't provoke the tree, as it is unknown the danger of the spirit that inhabits it. Sten said that they should just do the task for the tree and return. 'Less time will be wasted.' Elayna wanted to do anything but listen to the rhyming and talking tree. She complained of it scaring her, and that it is probably setting them up to sacrifice themselves to the wolves. Fiona told Elayna in response to that she isn't afraid to give Elayna another punch. Elayna backed down, but got all huffy about it.

Fiona smiled, turning back to the Grand Oak. It seemed to be amused by the scene that was happening below. Fiona gave a hesitant laugh. "Yes, alright we've decided. We will do this boon for you. What is this that you require?"

The Grand Oak swayed as it spoke. "I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire: as I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn."

Morrigan scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest. "And I take it you want that back?" She asked.

The tree nodded, "All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without." The Grand Oak looked down, deeply upset by the loss of its acorn.

"Very well. We shall help you." Fiona said. The Grand Oak slowly looked at Fiona.

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await, do what thou can." The Grand Oak stood up straight once more and twisted itself back into the original tree position. With a groan and a large sigh that shook the trees surrounding and scattered birds, the tree fell back asleep. It was silent once more, and Fiona turned to face her companions.

"Well, let's go, then." She said, smiling in a proud way and brushing past them to lead the group eastward. Fiona cast a spell that sent an eerie green glow in all four directions, each labeled with a faint letter that pointed to the North, the South, the East and the West. They followed the direction labeled to the East as the levitating, ethereal directions followed them.

* * *

The directions soon led them to the man who had thieved the acorn from the Grand Oak.

A unique man, he was.

The group stumbled onto a small clearly nestled between two small hills. A tent sat square in the center with a fire pit in front of it. The flames were dying down and desperately licking at the stones and wood to try and bring itself back to life. Piles of junk lay everywhere, from clothes to trinkets to books. Strung to the trees that circled the clearing were lines filled with clipped on shreds of clothing. Beside the fire pit was a tree trunk.

Fiona raised a brow as she approached the camp. _Clearly, someone had been here. They must not have left too long ago either, judging by the fire. _Her eyes flickered over to the dying flames. The group edged closer, just as a purple and blue smoke erupted from the tree trunk. Caught by surprise, Fiona gave a shout and fell backward and onto her backside. She heard Elayna give a giggle and aimed a glare at the noble from over her shoulder. The smoke continued to rise and grow and settle over a space in front of the trunk. A man dissolved out of the mist. He had a thick, white beard that was unruly and coated with strange liquids. His overall hair was long, and about as untamable as his beard. It was a more brown color, but all the while still white. Dirt and wrinkles caked his face and tightened whenever he made a face. His clothes were typical commoner clothes, but ripped and turn and far too tight around the arms and legs. A distorted staff sat on his back, dust embedded deep into the wood. He bent down to peer at Fiona, and was a bit too close for her own good.

"Oh dear, dear, dear. Not a spirit, not a werewolf…what are they coming to? Using a human!? Bah, I could do better." The old man rambled as he peered deep into her eyes. Fiona widened her eyes as she raised her hands to push the old man away from her. He stumbled back and she narrowed her eyes, climbing to her feet.

"Are you the thief that stole the Grand Oak's acorn?" She asked, dusting the dirt off of her robe. The old man shrugged, a glint in his eye.

"Mayhap I did, and mayhap I didn't! Have you come to claim it back? Oh, what fun! But we are getting ahead of ourselves." The old man laughed and Fiona could only cross her arms over her chest.

"Just answer the blighted question, you…you! We haven-" Fiona was interrupted by someone tapping her shoulder from behind. Fiona tensed, assuming it was Elayna and readying her fist. Instead, it was Morrigan. Morrigan gestured for Fiona to come close.

"Do not aggravate him…he may be insane but he is very old and very powerful. A mage who has spent a lifetime in the Brecilian Forest is a powerful one. Solitude can be good, and it can be bad. For this man, it has been both." Morrigan whispered and Fiona nodded, understanding. She turned back to the old man as he was continuing to ramble on. She cleared her throat and it spiked his attention.

"A game…we'll play a game! Haven't played a game in years. Months. Days. Anyway, it's been a long time. Ask a question and receive a question, answer and receive the same! Oh, what fun! I love this game. Oh, no I don't. Haven't played it in so long…" The old man trailed off, and Fiona could only let a laugh slip between her lips. It was a pitying laugh that seemed to be filled with annoyance.

"And why would _we_ want to play a game with _you_? We're not children. Well, she is but we're not." Fiona jerked a thumb back to point at Elayna, who was pouting like the small child she was. She was about to make a comment about it, but Morrigan whacked her in the back of the head with her staff.

"Because, you see, if you play my game then I'll trade with you. I've got things to trade, nice things. No, they're not nice. But they're decent. Do you think they're nice?" The hermit asked. Fiona smirked.

"I don't know, do you think they're nice?" She asked. The hermit smirked back at her.

"So you'll play the game?" The hermit asked. Fiona nodded.

"Did you want to ask me a question?" She asked, the amount of annoyance growing in her voice startling.

"I think it is your time to ask me a question?" The hermit countered, earning a sharp glare from Fiona. He regarded it as nothing, and simply smiled back at her.

"Fine…" She paused, thinking. Then, she got it. "Do you have the Grand Oak's acorn?"

The hermit nodded. "Yes, in fact I do have the silly tree's acorn. Got it really easy, silly tree. Should have locked it up tighter. I'll trade with you, if you want. Nothing silly, though. I want things that are worthwhile. But that's all I have to say about that. An answer for an answer…there you go! Look at you, playing the game." The hermit gave a wide, broad smile. Fiona gave a sheepish one in response.

"Do you want to ask me a question, now?" She asked and the hermit gave another sharp nod.

"Indeed I shall. Hmm…what is your name?" He asked.

"Fiona."

The hermit growled. Fiona widened her eyes, confused and only mildly frightened. "Of course you'd say that! THEY made you say that, didn't they? THEY know about her. THEY made you pretend to be her. I knew it! I knew it! It was too good to be true." The hermit looked around and Fiona could only stare in response. This man was obviously mad.

"Her?" She asked. The hermit clicked his tongue.

"You wasted your question. Could have been something good. Now I've got to answer it. Yes, her. But you know who, because they told you. But that's all I have to say about that." The hermit narrowed his eyes. There was an unnerving silence as he only watched her. Fiona's eyes were still wide.

"A-Are you going to ask me a question?" She asked and the hermit made a loud noise…something short of a scream and loosely categorized as an animal noise.

"Yes! Give me a moment, I'm thinking. Right. Where were you born?" He inquired. Fiona thought for a moment, deciding whether or not to give the true answer. It seemed that whatever she said he deflected with a claim that THEY sent her, whoever THEY are.

"In the town of Highever, far from here." She answered and the hermit made that scream-animal-noise noise again.

"THEY have got to me! THEY have probed my mind. Why? Why? But I shouldn't say anything more…or something worse will happen. You are so very insulting to come here and pretend. Pretending is for actors, not mages! Mages can pretend, though. I pretended. Pretended for days….But that's all I have to say about that." The hermit cracked his knuckles and held his hands to his chest.

"Alright…I suppose I'll ask you a question now?" Fiona asked and the hermit nodded.

"I suppose you might."

"Well…who are you?"

"Who am I? Why do you want to know? Did THEY send you? Did THEY tell you to get more out of me? THEY have already got enough! Tell them I won't give anything else." The hermit huffed.

"Who are THEY?" Fiona asked and the hermit only shook his head.

"You are clever to keep up this impression for so long. Others would have broken by now…but you've managed to stay like this. Reminds me of her…and you aren't that. I'll break it soon enough…But that's all I have to say about that." Fiona found that that one phrase was really getting to her head and making her angrier by the second. Her fingers itched to silence the old man…but she found him oddly interesting and hilarious.

"And look, you've wasted yet another question. My turn! Let's see…do you have knowledge of the arcane arts?" The hermit asked and Fiona quickly nodded.

"Yes, of course." Fiona motioned to the staff on her back. The hermit grabbed his own staff and cradled it in his hands.

"She was a mage too. But THEY told you that, didn't they? They won't break me. I'll break you! Not physically. Yet," The hermit gave a smirk that sent chills down Fiona's back. "So you can ask me a question now, because I've answered. Don't waste it, because you've done that twice now. It's annoying." Fiona's eyes blazed. Annoying?! She wanted to tell that hermit who really was annoying.

"Do you want to trade?" She asked, sticking to the basics. The hermit jumped up and down, clapping his hands. He nodded and searched around the camp, coming back with a handful of odds and ends. He placed them on the ground on a small strip of leather. Fiona knelt down across from the hermit and peered at the objects. There were small rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, books, shreds of clothing…and an acorn.

"I'll take the acorn." She pointed to it and tried to grab it, but the hermit snatched the acorn before she could.

"Ah, ah, ah…give me something first. Something nice. I'd like it to be a worthy replacement." The hermit kept the acorn close to him as Fiona grumbled and searched through her pack. Something that stuck out was a shiny, gold ring. She had found it somewhere in the tower, or at Ostagar…she couldn't remember. Fingering it, Fiona slid it out of the bag and handed it to the hermit, who greedily took the ring and just about chucked the acorn at her.

"Oh! A shiny gold ring! I had one like this…it wasn't a real ring though…only the thought of it was real. Good trade, good trade. I'll put it to good use. Always wanted to give her it." The hermit sighed and slipped the ring on his finger. In that one second, Fiona saw age and sadness clinging to the old man. It was saddening to see him like this. Alone. Like she was on the farm…

"But it's my turn to ask a question…What is your relationship with your father?" He asked, which startled Fiona completely. It wasn't vague like the other ones…at all. It was directly related.

"M-My father?" She stuttered, her tongue catching in her throat. Her father…beloved father. She remembered him being cuddly and full of jokes and games. When he wasn't working, he'd sit a child on a knee and talk to them, making them feel happy and loved. The words caught in her throat like her tongue. "My father…he….I don't know what happened to him. I've been told he's dead, but I don't think so. He was…a good man," Fiona caught herself. Why was she telling this hermit all about her father? Her eyes blazed with anger as she jumped to her feet. "And why am I telling you?" She sneered.

"Why are you telling me?" The hermit countered making Fiona give a shout.

"I'm done. We're done here. Thank you, madman, for nothing. The acorn counted as something, but it isn't enough. Anyway, goodbye." Fiona turned on her heel, not waiting for anything. Her companions watched her as she walked by.

"A waste of time." Sten muttered as he turned to follow Fiona. Morrigan and Elayna nodded.

Suddenly, there was a noise from behind.

"Fiona!" The hermit called and Fiona stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned. The voice was so familiar…

The hermit wasn't even looking in their direction and rather was prepping himself to go back into the stump. Whoever had said her name wasn't there any longer. Fiona shook slightly as the voice recounted in her head. She must have just imagined it. Spending what felt like forever with a stupid, insane hermit in the woods could take a toll on someone.

* * *

A/N

So much dialogue! Blech blech blech. Sorry about that. xDDD


	22. Golden Ring

3rd person POV

Mischief, Alistair, and Leliana

While the whole idea of bringing down the big bad guy was awfully tempting in the trio's eyes, they couldn't help but feel a little down. This wasn't just a big bad guy with a big bad personality. It was their friend, or so they had believed, who was turning to the evil side very quickly. Remorse spawned in their eyes as they grumpily trudged along, not at all fazed by Zathrian's urgency to get to Fiona before it was too late.

Zathrian, however, did notice the other's lack of morale. He stopped in mid walk, startling the other three. He whirled on his feet, his robes spinning, and glared daggers at them. They weren't sure to cower over the slightly small, or in Mischief's case slightly larger, elf or to stand there idly. They were not quick enough, and stood there rather idly. Zathrian was not happy with this either.

"I ask for guards and you give me forlorn, lethargic humans! What is the meaning of this? Do you not see the moment as dire!?" Zathrian hissed at the group. Alistair looked to Leliana who looked to Mischief who looked at a tree, but quickly corrected himself and stared back at Leliana. Alistair cleared his throat to speak.

"I - we apologize Zathrian. You should know that this strikes us close to the heart. Our close friend-" Leliana giggled and Alistair shot her a look. "-a friend who we got to know for a long time now has just been declared as a traitor. We didn't sense the evil within her, nor do we expect it. But we will act now." Alistair widened his eyes as Zathrian relaxed a bit, only to tense again.

"You did not see the vile black in her soul? She is corrupted. I saw this coming, yet you didn't? Pft. Usual Shemlen. That girl was trouble when she walked in. If she does not change sides at the last minute then I will take a stand. We will kill her to get to Witherfang's heart." Leliana and Alistair tensed up when Zathrian mentioned killing Fiona. Mischief whimpered and licked Leliana's leg.

Alistair stammered, trying to find the right words. "Don't you...Isn't this...Isn't this a little TOO paranoid? You heard wind of it only from a few guards, who have tongues as well as you and I and therefore have the ability to lie. What if this is all a mean, mean joke? I hate being the butt of jokes; it's never fun." While Alistair meant no harm, it seemed Zathrian was still very much on edge. He almost fumed at Alistair, but held is tongue with much reluctance. Rather, he put out a hand to settle the worried group.

"I can assure you, Warden that this is all within reason. If it were not, we would not be here. Now, let us get a move on before they get too far into the forest and we lose them." Zathrian turned again and lead the group deeper into the underbrush. No one said a word for a while. Not even Mischief, who was prone to making dog-like noises, nice or not.

The group walked in silence until Mischief's nose jerked upward and crinkled as he smelt. "What is it, boy?" Leliana asked, bending down on a knee to pet the dog along the head. Mischief whined and nudged Leliana forward, as if to show her something. Alistair looked over in alarm, wondering what the matter was. Leliana looked up to him, giving him silent and pleading eyes. He watched them for a minute, then sighed and called for Zathrian to stop. Zathrian froze in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. He seemed to become annoyed at the fact that they were only stopping because the dog was acting up.

"Must we stop? I can assure you, if we don't get a move on then the wolves will prey on the camp and all will be lost!" Zathrian grumbled impatiently, but Alistair and Leliana ignored him. Zathrian aimed a well-trained glare at Mischief, who growled low. Zathrian gasped in surprise and was only like that for a moment. He regained his composure and stared at the other two. They were intent on knowing where the dog was indicating they go.

Suddenly, Mischief's head jerked to the left and he let out a bark before running off. Leliana gasped and ran after him. Alistair gave a worried look at Zathrian, who gave a disgusted sort of look before gesturing for Alistair to follow. Alistair shrugged his shoulders at the elf and then ran off, calling for Leliana and Mischief.

"Leliana! Mischief! Le-" Alistair abruptly stopped his calling when he noticed that they had chased the dog into a clearing. A tent lay to the side and a crude stump sat in the middle of it all. Mischief was barking at the stump and Leliana trying to pry the dog away. Mischief was intent at barking at the stump, however, and didn't stop until a smoke rose from the wood and into the air. Leliana stared in awe and backed away, backing up into Alistair. She jumped and turned around, then smiled before grimacing at the smoke. Mischief was still barking and growling at the smoke until it materialized into an elderly man. He was a mage, as it seemed, with a gnarled branch attached to his back.

The man was cradling his hand, staring down at the ring on his finger. He barely noticed the dog, red haired girl and tall man. When he did, however, he hissed and made some more, unintelligible noises. "Who are you? I already gave a bit, you don't need to send anymore!" He shouted to no one in particular. Leliana and Alistair shared a look before staring back at the dog who was growling at the man. The old man looked down at the dog and growled in response. Mischief whimpered and ran with his tail between his legs back to Leliana. Alistair snorted.

"Listen, we are very sorry," Leliana the diplomat started, holding up her hands in defense. "We did not mean to intrude. We were simply passing through. Our dog, he is a little bit on the mad side," Mischief whined at Leliana who shrugged him off with difficulty. "He can barely tell left from right! Let us leave, right now, and we won't disturb you any further." Leliana pulled at Mischief's rope collar and the dog yipped as he was reluctantly dragged away. Alistair, however, was fascinated at the ring on the man's finger. He remembered picking that up with the group when they had pawed through one of the chests at Ostagar. He remembered the event faintly, but seemed to have trouble recalling it, yet the images came anyway.

_"Oh, I won't be able to look through all of this," Fiona grumbled as she ran a hand through her hair. With her other hand, she rummaged through the junk in the chest. Armor clanked with every movement against flasks that rubbed against leather. The resulting sound was disturbing and caused Alistair to cringe._

_"We've got time." He said, trying to relax the young Warden a bit. Fiona shook her head, however, and looked up at the man with one half of her lip buried in her mouth. _

_"We haven't! And I'm wasting all of it. I might as well just overturn the whole thing and pick at random." Fiona mumbled, sighing and continuing to look through. Alistair looked over his shoulder at the sky. Night was falling quickly and it seemed that in no time would the battle begin. Fiona was right: they didn't have time. But she was intent on searching through the chest with the key that the starving Prisoner had given her. In it were a number of things, and that they stashed, but she was intent on finding something._

_"I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it. You're right, we have no time; we should go." Alistair didn't mean to sound so blunt, but he knew that they could get caught at any moment. Fiona looked up at him over her shoulder and a hurt look crossed her face. Oh, he did it now. He agreed with her! While he didn't know much about young women as he did old, elderly sisters, he knew that one rule about conversing with a female is that she is always right, but you never tell her she's right unless she insists. In this case, Fiona was right and Alistair shouldn't have said a thing._

_"Fine. Give me another second." She muttered and then finally let out a garbled noise of surprise. She pulled out a shiny, gold ring that glinted in the fading sunlight. Alistair was a bit taken by the little gold ring. It seemed to be alive, pulsating and weaving about with invisible threads._

_"It's enchanted," he murmured and Fiona nodded, closing the chest with her free hand and fingering the small ring with the other. They had already grabbed some items from it, yet Fiona insisted that she wanted something small and delicate to keep along. "Is it right to take all of this?"_

_Fiona shrugged and slipped the ring into her purse. "It's not like we took a ton. I bet he won't even notice it's gone. Come, let's go then. As you _so_ wished." She frowned and walked off, Alistair trailing behind her._

Either Fiona forgot the ring was enchanted or she knew, she must have given it to this old man. Besides, he knew it was her ring. The old man's finger was tight around all corners of the ring and seeming to pulse.

"Where do you get that ring?" Alistair asked before he even knew he was speaking. The old man looked up, all traces of madness wiped from his face for a split second. Alistair saw a withered, aged and beaten old man beneath the madness. Then, as quick as it disappeared, it came back and the old hermit was snarling like an animal.

"I traded it for an acorn. What's your business to it? Have you special meaning to it? Did she take it from you?" The hermit hissed, cradling the ring hand tighter to his chest. Alistair's breath caught in his throat. So Fiona _had_ passed through here. There was no doubt in his mind.

"Yes-"

"Too bad," The hermit snickered and then his laughter changed to another snarl. "Now leave my camp before I have to force you." The old man let his staff on his back do the talking. It started to glow a purple sheen and a green fog came swirling from it. Leliana and Alistair's eyes widened as they struggled to back away even further. Mischief was going crazy, barking and snarling at the old man and his magic. With a long, hard tug from both Alistair and Leliana, they managed to get the dog turned the opposite direction and heading back to where they left Zathrian.

Zathrian was waiting, and sitting on a log as he grumbled and read through an old book. When he heard the three approach, he snapped the book shut and shoved it in a pack. He stood up, dusting off his robes and crossing his arms. "Was there a good reason for that mutt of yours to have run off?"

Alistair mocked hurt and placed a hand on the shaking dog's head. "Mutt? Oh, he's not a mutt!" Alistair gave a sort of childish tone and Leliana sighed. Alistair cleared his throat and returned to the topic at hand. "We know that Fiona passed through here." Zathrian perked up at this.

"How did you gather this intelligence?" He asked, his voice inclining with the need to know.

"There was an old mage. He had a ring on his finger that I'm pretty sure Fiona had before." Alistair chimed in and Leliana nodded, though she had no idea that the ring was Fiona's. Mischief gave a low whine and Leliana looked down at the Mabari.

"Is something wrong, boy?" Leliana asked, giving the dog a firm rub behind the ears. Mischief wagged his tail, yet was unfazed and continued to bark and whine. Suddenly it dawned on Leliana. "Oh, I should have known! Stupid, stupid me!"

"What? What?" Zathrian and Alistair asked in unison. Leliana gave herself a short rap on the head.

"Oh, I really should have known; should have seen the signs..." She continued to scold herself before Alistair took Leliana by the shoulders and lightly shook her. "Speak, Leliana!"

Leliana looked up into Alistair's eyes. "It's Mischief!" There was a sparkle in her pupils. "I had not thought of it, but he can sniff out Fiona! If we had something of hers..."

"Like the ring?" Alistair asked and Leliana nodded feverishly.

"Yes! If the ring hasn't been contaminated too much by the mage, maybe it still has a bit of her scent on it?" Leliana smiled at her own plan and Alistair nodded along with it. Zathrian could only sigh and shrug.

"If it gets us to the girl, I'm all for it."

Leliana dragged Alistair and Mischief back to the hermit's camp and waited for the old man to appear again. He did, and this time he had his staff fully out and pointed directly at the trio.

"I thought I told you to leave?" The old man sneered. The ring on his finger shined brightly and Alistair couldn't rip his eyes from it. He only did when Leliana jutted him in the arm with her elbow.

"Er, oh yes. You did. But we've come back. We're company! Anyway, er..." He looked down to Leliana for support, but she had disappeared. Mischief was still there, but he was sniffing around. The old hermit noticed the dog and used his stick to shoo the dog away. A voice whispered in Alistair's ear. He recognized it as Leliana.

"_I hate to say it,_" She whispered. "_But we have to incapacitate the old man. Do not kill him, please. Just knock him out or something. We need the ring." _And then she was gone in a blur of red. Alistair bit his lip. How would he go about incapacitating an old man! An elder. A _mage_!?

_When in doubt,_ Alistair thought as he raised his sword high in the air, hilt directed at the old man's shoulders. _Just hit them with the hilt of your blade_. He muttered a quiet apology to the old man before striking him between the shoulders. Before he could, however, there was another flash of red and Leliana had him pinned to the ground. His arm was sticking straight in the air and her elbow digging into his armpit. The old man crowed and cawed, but nothing stopped Leliana from digging her elbow deep. The old man froze and then was still. He was breathing, thank the Maker, but simply asleep.

Alistair watched in alarm as Leliana stood up, brushed herself off, and then plucked the ring from his finger. She caught Alistair staring and smiled. Alistair's jaw was hanging open and Leliana giggled. As she walked by, she snapped it shut. "Keep your mouth closed, or the flies will get in." Alistair shivered as he imagined flies buzzing about in his mouth. He regained control over his body, and while following Mischief, followed Leliana back to Zathrian.

The elf had his arms crossed over his chest still, and only relaxed when he spotted Leliana with the ring. Mischief and Alistair came out of the trees after, and they gathered together. Leliana stuck the ring under Mischief's nose. The Mabari took a long, deep sniff to try and find the hidden smell. Under the smell of aged cheese, forest, and dirt was the fragrant lavender smell of Fiona. When he found it, Mischief barked and then sped off in one direction.

"I didn't know Mabari could sniff out people." Alistair noted. Leliana shrugged.

"I did not either. It seems they do if they have a special bond. Otherwise we'd be wandering this forest for a long, long time." Leliana laughed.


	23. Terrible Lies

(Back to 1st person with our dear sweet heroine, Fiona)

After the acorn was happily restored to the Grand Oak, he gave us a branch and we were able to pass through the fog in the middle of the forest. Aside from a few Sylvan and a werewolf or two, we were making good progress.

Of course, Elayna had to ruin it several times by whining about her aching face. I really didn't regret hitting her. It was either now, or later and in front of everyone. At least in this bit of privacy it was like someone abusing a child behind closed doors. Not that I'd abuse a child. I'd just abuse _this_ child.

Once we passed through the fog barrier, we were confronted by a large, grand and crumbling fortress. Trees surrounded the building and basically shielded it from any wandering eyes. Hills put the fortress in a bit of a valley, and I swear I heard growling. By the Maker, if we make out of this alive…I'm never setting foot in these forest again.

The growling escalated and we were confronted by Swiftrunner and his lackeys again. This time, he seemed to not want to start any trouble.

"The lady wishes to speak with you." Grumbled the lead werewolf. Morrigan scoffed from behind and took a step forward to join me.

"Speak with us? Only a moment ago did you wish to rip us limb from limb if we follow. Yet, when we do, you head for the route we tried? Funny how that works out, isn't it?" Morrigan sneered at the wolf and he growled at her. I wouldn't be surprised if Morrigan growled back. Or Sten.

"Listen," I placed a hand in front of Morrigan to try and stop her from saying anything else to the wolves. "We'll speak to your lady. Just, lead her to us." I smiled hesitantly at the monsters, and they turned to go.

But Elayna had to go and rip open her big mouth.

"Why _should_ we follow?" The noble asked, sauntering forward. I slapped my hand to my face, not wanting to know what she was going to say. We'd probably be werewolf stew by the end of the hour. "I mean, you attacked us throughout our journey, and once we break your barrier you seize? This isn't some literary novel, beasts. This is reality. You wanted a fight, and we will happily oblige." I heard Elayna remove her daggers and that's when I knew I had to jump into action. If this…idiot…manages to attack any of the werewolves, they will slaughter us all.

I raced over to Elayna and used my staff to slap the daggers out of her hands. She yelped and stared me in the eye. "I'm not backing down." She growled and reached to grab the daggers again. On instinct, I slapped her with the stick again and she let out another howl. Her angry eyes bore into mine, but I refused to be intimidated. Not by a puny princess like her.

"You will back down," I said, my voice full of such ferocity, that I still doubt it was even me. "I am your leader, and you will listen to _me_." I slapped her across the knuckles with my staff when she moved to grab the daggers one last time. A guttural, animal noise slinked out of her throat as she glared at me. Was she trying to intimidate me, still?

She was terrible at it.

As I was gawking over how stupid she was acting, Elayna took me by surprise and leaped toward me. I staggered backward and she jumped again, this time jumping onto me and shoving me to the ground. She had her daggers in her hand; she was aiming at my heart and throat. I glared back at her as she said nothing. I heard Morrigan rustle as she tried to race over to get Elayna off of me, but I called her off.

If Elayna wanted to fight now, which was incredibly stupid, she would get a fight.

But then it hit me. This is the same girl who barely knew how to fight a few weeks ago. The same girl who just seconds ago wanted to fight, and now she was getting it. I wouldn't let her win. She was a newbie at fighting with daggers, and if I timed my moves right, I could knock her out again.

"Prepare to step down, _leader_." She hissed the last words as she brought her knives down on me. I imagined a bloody scene, but acted before the tip of the steel even touched my skin. She was sitting beside me, and I managed to roll out of the way of her attack. She let out a cry of annoyance and jumped to her feet. I did the same.

"Do you really want to mess with a mage?" I asked, twirling the staff in my hands. I had been practicing the arcana for my whole life. Elayna won't stand a chance.

"I do. I'll do anything for him." Elayna hissed and raced forward. I didn't react in time, as I was awestruck at her statement, and she dug her knife into my shoulder. I shouted in pain and hit her across the head, with my free arm, with my staff. She ducked to the side but got a good hit from the staff. She staggered, one hand against her head. I yanked the knife out of my arm. Fiery pain raced up my arm and into all of my veins, but I couldn't even think. I was blinded by annoyance and rage. How dare _she_?

Elayna lunged again but I leapt out of the way and hit her with my staff on the ankles. She fell to the ground. I conjured the Cone of Cold and aimed it at her. The ice froze her hair and her skin, but she was still moving. But slower, thank the Maker. As she slowly raced to me, I took that as my opportunity to hit her again with my stick, but in a place that might do some damage. Her stomach.

Elayna had been picky as to what kind of armor she wanted to wear. She wanted to show skin, and obviously didn't understand that armor wasn't about looking good in it. Armor was about protecting yourself and all visible skin from hashing and slashing. Or in this case, lashing. Her armor was a breastplate and her stomach was visible, then skirt and lower armor. I took a stance and swung my bat at her stomach. When it hit, there was a loud noise. Coming from her.

Elayna moaned in pain and fell to her knees. I hit her again, but on the back. She screamed this time and I hit her one more time for good luck. She fell over, cold. I had knocked her out again.

But, just to be sure that I hadn't murdered a noble, I knelt beside her and felt for her pulse. It was there, and thumping loudly. Maybe a little faint, but loud all the while. With a sigh of relief, I sat back and looked over at the werewolves. They seemed stunned and weren't moving. They were just staring.

Swiftrunner shook his head and returned to his normal, wolf self. He growled at me, as per usual, and gestured with his furry paw to the fortress. "Come. Now that you have finished with this…brawl. We will take you to the Lady." Swiftrunner and his brutes sped off and we were forced to hurry to catch up. Sten scooped Elayna into his arms, grunting and grumbling something in Qunari under his tongue.

3rd Person POV

Mischief, Alistair and Leliana (and Zathrian)

Zathrian insisted that there was a barrier in the center of the forest. He said his scouts had spotted it before. However, there was not one now.

"Well, clearly Fiona, Sten, Morrigan and Elayna passed through here." Alistair said as they walked through the nonexistent barrier. Ahead was a fortress hidden beneath a refuge of trees. These didn't seem to be like the Sylvans, so the group was in safety. As they walked on, Alistair heard a crunch beneath his boot. He looked down and noticed that there was a small sheet of ice beneath him. Fresh, ice. He also noticed several scuffs in the ground and footprints. They also looked fresh.

"Hold it, I've found something." He said. Zathrian rushed over and bent down, peering at the footprints. Zathrian scooped up a bit in his fingers and sniffed at it. He nodded to Alistair and stood up, brushing his fingers off.

"Yes, these seem fresh. They can't be too far. Let's hurry, now. We've already lost too much time." Zathrian's face was pressed with worry. Alistair shared a look with Leliana and they surged on.

But where to go? Once they entered the fortress they were met with a few giant spiders and a werewolf or two. Nothing too bad, it seemed. But overall, the place was suspiciously quiet. Alistair's heart panged when he thought he saw a flash of blonde hair in the doorway. He really missed her, didn't he? Was he that much…liking of her? Did she even like him?

_What am I, a teenager? I'm just going to let things play out. We're Wardens. We don't have romantic relationships with each other_, Alistair struggled to tell himself. But when he did, his mind drifted to Fiona's eyes, her beautiful eyes. They were bright like the sea and swam with emotion. Her skin: softer than any silk swatch. So many things about her were wonderful. Alistair couldn't help but indulge.

"Alistair!" Leliana's voice interrupted his thoughts and he jerked back to reality. A hesitant smile grew on his face and Leliana only smirked. She knew what he was thinking about. Alistair's face burned a few shades but he waved her off.

Suddenly, there was the slamming of a door and footsteps echoed into the foyer. The four drew their weapons and prepared for another wave of spiders or werewolves. Rather, a familiar blonde appeared. Her hair was dirtier than it should be, and her arm was bleeding. Even so, Alistair knew her. He could tell it was her from a mile away. It was Fiona.

Behind her followed Morrigan, and Sten carrying a lumpy thing. Its hair was brown but it was too bruised and beaten to tell what it really was. Fiona stepped forward, one eyebrow cocked up.

"Alistair? Leliana? Zathrian? What in Andraste's name are _you_ doing here?" Fiona asked. Behind the group lumbered a werewolf. Zathrian's eyes narrowed and he rushed forward, confronting the Warden.

"We have come to stop you from killing the camp! We will not let you and the wolves kill the Dalish!" Zathrian thundered. Fiona scoffed.

"Isn't that a little too over the top, Zathrian? Please, enlighten me why you oh so think I would want to kill the Dalish. Are they with you?" She asked, peeking a look over Zathrian's shoulder and Alistair, Leliana and Mischief. The dog barked and ran toward the girl, nearly knocking her over. Fiona pet the dog, still a bit disgusted. She never liked dogs, but this one had a soft spot on her.

"Yes. Fiona, we won't let you do it! You may claim you will not, but…" Alistair said, but once he saw the extreme hurt and betrayal in her eyes, he couldn't say anymore.

"Maker's soiled sheets…you actually thought I would do this? Of all people…you?" She looked as if she was going to cry. Alistair then realized how big of a mistake his choices were. With a glare, she cut off the sadness and turned back to Zathrian.

"Tell me. Why would you think that I am plotting with werewolves to destroy the Dalish camp?" She asked, this time not so lax about it. Zathrian's eyes narrowed as well.

"My eyes and ears in the wood saw you conversing with these…beasts. They aren't sociable, so you speaking to them will only mean you are plotting with them. I also got wind that you punched an ally of yours. That is a mark of true corruption." Zathrian said, gesturing to the lump in Sten's arms. Alistair only then realized that the lump had to be Elayna. Wow, had Fiona really made a mess of her. He wanted to chuckle, but it was the wrong time. Not with the one girl who he thought he was a true friend glaring knives and swords at him.

"For one, these beasts are sociable. They are not as inhumane as you portray them to be. In fact, they requested no more violence at one point. We agreed but Elayna decided she was going to open her fat gob and ruin everything, almost. She attacked me but I managed to knock her out again."

"And the first time?" Zathrian inquired. Fiona smirked.

"She was getting on my nerves. I punched her to make her shut it." This time, Alistair smiled a bit. Fiona noticed it and smile too, but then realized what she was doing and scowled. Alistair sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. What had he done? Leliana looked like a child who had been scolded. He patted her with a friendly hand on the shoulder but she was incredibly sad.

"I was wrong. The wolves aren't inhumane. It's _you_," Zathrian hissed. Fiona gasped, but seemed unfazed by the insult. "Now, call off the attack. Or I will have to force you, for the right of all the innocent Dalish."

Fiona shook her head. "You've got it all wrong, Zathrian. We are not aligning with wolves to murder Dalish."

"Then why are you leaving the temple?"

Fiona was quiet for a moment. "We are leaving the temple because I was sent by the Lady of the Forest to find _you_."

This time, Zathrian was quiet. Then, he scoffed. "The Lady of the Forest. Is that what the spirit calls himself now?" Swiftrunner, the wolf behind Fiona, took this comment to an extreme and lunged on all fours to the elf. He was almost nose to nose with the elf when he snarled his threat.

"How dare you speak of the Lady like so? You could be killed for that sort of thing, Elf." The werewolf growled. Fiona made a garbled noise of impatience.

"Swiftrunner, please. Your Lady would not appreciate the murdering of the man of the hour. Do not lay a claw on him. Let the Lady deal with him." Fiona said, putting out a hand to try to calm the beast. Alistair's eyes widened in surprise. Why was Fiona getting so close to the beast? He could rip her to shreds!

"My Lady would appreciate it if I killed this elf right here and now." Swiftrunner garbled as he pulled his sharp, killing claws back. Fiona's hand touched his arm, but it emitted a soft, green glow. Swiftrunner looked over at the human to see that her hair was floating slightly and there was a green sheen in her eyes.

"Swiftrunner, please," It wasn't Fiona's voice coming out of her mouth. It was a mixture of hers, and some other persons. A woman. "Do not murder Zathrian. Take him deeper into the temple, please. I insist." Fiona smiled and Swiftrunner relaxed, dropping his claw. All of the green escaped out of Fiona from her mouth and her eyes fluttered as her limbs threatened to let her fall. Alistair dived through the group and managed to barely catch Fiona before she hit the cold, hard ground.

"What happened?" He asked, catching a smile from Leliana.

"She was possessed, only for a moment," Zathrian explained. "'Your Lady' _is_ a spirit. No doubt did she use this human as a vessel so that she could not have to walk from wherever she is." Zathrian said, crossing his arms. Swiftrunner growled at the elf and the others.

"Come, now. The Lady sent us here to find you, elf." Swiftrunner ran on all fours back through the doorway they had entered. Sten, carrying Elayna, followed, then Morrigan, then Mischief and then Leliana, who was grinning like a cat at Alistair.

Alistair was still clutching Fiona. She had passed out for only a moment. The spirit must have been very powerful. "Fiona," He whispered. She did not stir. "Fio, Fio, Fio…" He said, and she moved a bit. Her eyes fluttered open. She was smiling at him.

"Am I dreaming?" She asked. Alistair shook his head. He brushed a strand of hair away from her head. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

Fiona nodded and then her face hardened. She brought her hand back and slapped him across the face.

Alistair was taken by surprise, and dropped her. She climbed to her feet, tears falling down her face. "I can't believe you!" She said, wiping her tears and clutching her throbbing hand. Alistair's eyes were wide, and his hands pressed against the red mark growing on his face.

"I-I-I didn't know what to believe! They presented me evidence…but I doubted it afterwards, I swear!" He said but Fiona shook her head.

"I thought you were my friend, Alistair. Friends don't betray each other because a little bird told them something!" She was on the verge of shouting. The tears were free-falling and it hurt Alistair to see them. He had never really seen her cry this much. A couple of times were a quick peek into her tent, not in a creepy way, but just to check up on her.

"I swear, Fiona, I would never betray you." He said, edging closer. She threw up her hands and forced him to stop. A blue, shimmery light drafted from her fingers.

"But if I hadn't said a thing, would you? If Zathrian had persuaded you even more, you would strike me down? Strike me like a templar to an abomination!?" She demanded, her hand shaking. The light was fading and Alistair drew closer.

"Fiona, please, listen. I would, never, ever hurt you." He was close to her now, and he wrapped his large hands around her tiny wrists. They seemed so breakable in his grip. One wrong move and her wrist could be displaced. But he would never ever hurt her. Fiona was still sobbing. She threw herself into his chest and sobbed into his armor. He hoped no one was missing them.

"We have to go, Fiona." He said and she nodded, still crying into his armor as they walked to the doorway. She pulled back at the last minute, sniffling and looking at him in the eye.

"Promise me, Alistair, that you won't ever betray me. You won't listen to the lies people feed about me. There are many, and many are hurtful. But don't you dare listen to what people say about me. Do you promise this?" She asked, one hand grazing lightly over the red imprint on his cheek. He flinched under the touch and she lowered her eyes.

"I promise," He said. "Now let's get back before they start killing each other down there."


	24. First

(Finally, first person again. Oh and short. I know. Blach. )

"Fiona?"

I didn't want to look at him. I really didn't.

"Fiona, please." He pleaded. With much difficulty, I turned around. Alistair's face was still plenty red from where I had slapped him earlier. I didn't know what came over me. I was upset. Angry. Sad. Betrayed. A number of words could describe how I felt, but there weren't enough words in the world to sum up all that I felt. I'm still not sure.

But my heart was still swelling with love. I still had strong feelings for Alistair. I don't know if he does for me, anymore. Now that I slapped him…

"What do you want of me?" I whispered, looking down.

"Let's take a walk. We should talk." He said and I nodded, joining him as we navigated through the trees. A clear, little river stood in front of us. Moonlight sparkled the top of the water and there was the faint chirping of crickets. It was very relaxing. Alistair pulled me next to the river and shuffled through his armor. What was he doing? Then he thrust something small and pokey into my hand.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes and peered at the object. It was long, green and had little spikes everywhere. Two leaves ran out of the stem and a shimmery, red rose sat at the top. It looked a bit flattened, as if it had been compressed. I raised an eyebrow and looked up at him.

"Your new weapon of choice?" I asked and Alistair's nervous face fell. He laughed and blew out some air.

"Oh yes, be wary, Darkspawn of my floral sword. The spines hurt and the smell will surely waft into your nostrils." We shared a laugh but then Alistair grew serious again. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, I know, it's a rose."

"Good. Well, I…" He trailed off and shifted uncomfortably. I crossed my arms, wondering where he was going with this.

"Fiona, I know we haven't known each other so long, but…I've learned to care for you. After that outburst at the Brecilian Forest, I realized how much I cared for you. How troubled you were," My heart was thumping like a jack rabbit in my chest. If I knew better, this was heading in the direction that I've dreamed about for months. "And I wanted to give you this rose. No other time seemed perfect but this one. I remember looking at it and thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in so much ugliness and despair?' And, I don't know…but it made me think of you the same way." Alistair's face was a few shades more red than usual. Finally, after so much waiting, my dream really _was_ coming true.

"Oh, Alistair…" I said, smiling. His face fell and he looked down.

"I knew it. I knew I was too stupid. You don't think of me that way, do you? I've just made a big, stupid mistake and made a fool of myself. You must be still mad...but it makes sense, I understand." Alistair muttered. I couldn't stand to see him like this. I'd been feeling like this for months, just waiting for the right moment. Now was it, and I couldn't stand by to let him think like I did.

"No, Alistair you've got it all wrong," I said, my hands shaking as I drew closer to him. I traced the side of his face with my hand. He was breathing heavy, and I was too. "I do think of you like that. I have been for so long now. I'm so happy that the time is nigh." I whispered, our lips nearly touching. My heart almost thumped out of its chest once we kissed. I've been dreaming of this for so long. So many restless nights of fitful dreams and waking up crying, knowing that I'd never have him. As we kissed, electricity filtered between us, shocking our lips quite literally. I let out a cry and he did too. Darn my magic for working on its own, sometimes. Actually, never. I planned that. I wanted the first kiss to be electric. Something to remember.

We looked at each other and laughed. Then he pressed his lips to mine again and we went deep into the kiss. The rose was still tight in my grip. I could feel blood beginning to fall inside the palm of my hand, but I didn't care.

We backed up against a tree and his kisses lingered on my jaw and neck. I let out a moan of pleasure and was silenced by another loving kiss on the lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and got as close as a person could be to him. I was so happy we were alone. If anyone were watching...I wouldn't really care. I've waited far too long for this.

My hand clutched fistfulls of his short, blonde hair as we pressed against each other. With every kiss, the temperature increased. Everything was suddenly too hot, and I felt suffocated beneath the robes. Alistair noted this, as it seemed, as he pulled away. We panted, staring at each other and smiling. His grin was wide and I noticed each perfect little thing about him. His smile, his hair, his eyes.

I really love this man.

My heart yearned for another kiss and my brain fought to react before I acted on sheer impulse. It gnawed at my thoughts as I stared at his lips, waiting and watching. To keep from leaning in, I tightened my grip on the rose. Alistair rubbed the back of his head with his hand, looking down at the ground and blushing almost as much as I probably was.

He was probably ashamed. I...must have gone too fast. I've made an idiot of myself in front of him. Judging by the sheer awkwardness of his stature, I assumed that either I'm a bad kisser or I'm just not the right person for him. He probably wanted Elayna.

"Alistair," I choked out, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to press it on you...I just..."I trailed off. He was silent, and I begged for tears to fall. Something, something to show that either of us showed emotion after the kiss.

He looked up at me and shook his head, gently cupping the side of my face. I held my breath, waiting for the sheer rejection. Rather, Alistair tilted my head up and kissed me lightly on the nose. Warmth instantly spread from the mark to all over my body.

"You're alright, my dear. If it makes you feel any better, I wanted this even more than you did." He chuckled and I relaxed a bit.

"So, does that mean that you liked it?" I asked.

"I don't know," He pinched my cheek. "I'd have to have a few more test runs...just to be sure." Instantly I laughed. We leaned in closer and I let my lips linger on the side of his face, just at the edge of his smile. I felt his face twitch as my lips tickled his.

"As you wish." I tugged at his lower lip with my teeth and laced my arms around his neck. Alistair gruffly chuckled and pressed me against the tree. All was numb, besides his lips on mine.

But, I swear on Andraste and her ashes that I saw someone in the corner of my eye; prowling and watching us. Before I could show Alistair, the shadow, or person, was gone. Half of my feeling mind considered that it might be someone like Morrigan, or even Mischief. But the other, small and insignificant side told me that it was Elayna.


End file.
